


Of Captive Hearts

by Riocat01



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Braime - Fandom, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Braime - Freeform, Brienne and Jaime have kids, Canon Divergent, Cersei is alive, Cersei’s army defeats Daenarys, Childbirth, F/M, Iron Throne not melted, Jaime and Brienne get married, Jaime and Brienne wedding, Jaime kills Cersei, Missing, Mistrust, Pregnancy, Sexual Intercourse, Smut, got season 8 alternate ending, jaime is alive, post-season 8, prisoner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:46:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 107,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23890291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riocat01/pseuds/Riocat01
Summary: Cersei Lannister’s troops have defeated Daenarys Targaryen and her dragon, and restored Cersei to the Iron Throne as Queen. Jaime has returned to honor his commitment to Cersei and their child, but his heart still yearns for Brienne of Tarth, the woman he truly loves.  Jaime soon realizes the depths of Cersei’s treachery, as word is received from The North that Brienne has gone missing.*Canon Divergent. Alternate Ending to Season 8.
Relationships: Brienne of Tarth & Jaime Lannister, Brienne of Tarth and Jaime Lannister, Brienne of Tarth/Jaime Lannister, Cersei Lannister & Jaime Lannister, Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister & Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister x Brienne of Tarth - Relationship, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, braime
Comments: 82
Kudos: 261





	1. Chapter 1

Jaime had begun spending more and more time by himself. In the beginning, after Winterfell, when he returned to Kings Landing he told himself that leaving had been the right thing to do. He forced himself to believe that. He closed his heart and fought his brain to accept that it was better for all of them. His newfound sense of honor, understood that he had an obligation to Cersei. In his mind, dignity and integrity meant taking responsibility for the babe they created, and the new family they would build. Of course, that had been the consequences of his actions before he realized how deeply he loved Brienne. It had only been a few months since the night of the most painful choice of his life, and it still burned him like it was yesterday.

It was that memory of his time with Brienne, and the knowledge of how badly he had hurt her, that pained him the most. The unbearable ache in his heart overwhelmed him whenever she would cross his mind. It was nearly constant now. The image of her distraught face as she stood in the freezing courtyard at Winterfell and begged him not to go, haunted him. He saw her in his dreams. He saw her when he woke. They were parted, yet she was always with him. In the months that followed Jaime realized that what he had with Cersei was not love. Their bond was one created by biology before they were born, but then forged in life through obsession and mutual treachery. His sister had made it easy for him to succumb to the baser aspects of his nature, and perhaps that is really all he was now. He had ruined every chance he had ever been given, and usually it had been for Cersei. No, it was better that he were out of Brienne’s life, before he poisoned her with his evil.

It was the only peace he could find, knowing that his leaving had protected Brienne. He had tried to hurt her. Jaime had tried to slink away into the night without saying a word, like the coward he believed himself to be. He wanted Brienne to hate him. It was the only way he could ensure her safety. He knew that if he had declared the truth of his undying love for her, that she would have followed him. His own heart threatened to stop beating when he thought of what would have happened to her if she had. Cersei would have had Brienne slaughtered, and she would have made him watch. No, he could not allow that. It was the last thing he could do for Brienne. He gave himself up to keep her safe. On those nights when sleep would not comfort him, and there were many, he would crawl from Cersei’s bed and watch the bright stars in the sky. He tried to comfort himself, thinking that Brienne was at least under those same stars, but his mind would think of how they paled in comparison to her eyes and his heart would break all over again. 

Often he wished that he had given into himself and turned around any of the hundreds of times he had imagine doing so on his way back to Kings Landing. On his journey, he had laid sleepless night after night on the cold ground, digging his nails into his flesh. It had taken all his will not to jump on his horse, spur the animal back to Winterfell, and grovel at Brienne’s feet for forgiveness. Now, Jaime wished that he could lay prostrate before her for eternity trying to win her back. He would sacrifice his left hand, if only he could have that night back, the night he left her. The moment he had left his heart standing, weeping in the cold darkness of the North, so far away. He would give his very life for the chance to do everything differently, but he understood it was impossible. As long as Cersei was alive, if he was not by her side, Brienne would never be safe. He had made his choice, and now he would have to live with it.

At times he thought how much easier it would have been if he had died during the battle for Kings Landing, instead of emerging the victor. Upon his return to the city, he had easily killed Euron Greyjoy, found Cersei and managed to hide her out of harm’s reach. Then, even though he had been badly wounded in his fight with Greyjoy, he somehow lead the Lannister forces to victory over Daenarys Targaryen and her dragons. He told himself that Cersei would expect that of him, or she would know it was only the shell of him that had truly returned to her. It was all part of the charade he played to keep Brienne protected. The Stark army retreated back to the north, and he stood by Cersei’s side as she was restored to the throne. Even then, the pride on his face was only a facade. All he could think of was Brienne, and how relieved he was that she had not been party to the fighting. That she was still safe at Winterfell.

So, Jaime took his place, dutifully, at Cersei’s side as she sat upon the Iron Throne. He told her whatever lie she needed to believe to ensure Brienne’s security, and resigned himself to the fact that the protection afforded by his absence would have to be the greatest act of love he could show to the woman he had left. He prayed she would move on with her life, without him. Then, after having been back in Kings Landing perhaps a month, came the day he realized even that was not enough.

He stood on the podium in the throne room guarding Cersei, listening to her conduct the business of the realm in her usual threatening manner. All the while his mind was a thousand miles away reliving every moment he had ever spent with Brienne. It was becoming more difficult to hide his preoccupation from Cersei. It was also harder to veil his contempt. Suddenly, her words shook him from his melancholy. He brought his unswerving concentration to the drama playing out before him. 

“What news have you of the North.” Cersei questioned the dark clad figure standing before her, who was obviously a spy. Jaime startled at the mention of the place he had last seen Brienne. He searched the stranger’s face for any sign of familiarity, but did not recognize him. The hooded mercenary had not been at the Battle with the Dead. The man would not have know about his relationship with Brienne. Hopefully, he posed no threat. However, any information there was to impart, Jaime could not guess. His attention was suddenly riveted upon the conversation and any news the man had to report.

“It appears that Sandor Clegane did not perish in the flames of dragon fire with his brother.” The spy relayed. “He fell through the fire into an underground canal. Apparently he was injured, but made it back to Winterfell.” A sly smirk crossed his filthy lined face. “He and Queen Sansa Stark have wed.”

Cersei’s expression darkened. “Really?” She chuckled morosely. Any news of Sansa Stark’s happiness was most definitely unwelcome.

“Well then.” She changed the subject. “Is that all?” Her tone seemed a little too knowing. She waited in anticipation.

“There is one more thing.” The man announced, taking a long breath.

Cersei sat on the edge of her seat. “Yes.” She prodded, eagerly. She turned slightly toward Jaime, as if waiting for his reaction.

“Ser Brienne of Tarth has gone missing.” The man reported.

Jaime heart leaped into his throat. He started to step forward, but realized how the action would be viewed by Cersei. He steadied himself on legs that could barely stand, grabbing the hilt of his sword as if it could bear his weight. As the room began to spin, Jaime steeled his nerves against the panicked onslaught they promised.

“Oh Dear.” Cersei voiced with exaggerated concern. “That is your ...friend, isn’t it Jaime?” Her tone came close to mockery.

Cersei returned her questions to the mercenary. “Please tell us how this came about.” She inquired, a bit too concerned, Jaime thought.

“Ser Brienne left Winterfell on routine patrol. A fortnight ago it was.” The informant continued. “Her horse returned. She did not.” He recounted. “The countryside was scoured. There was no sign of her. The Queen in the North...” Cersei bristled at the use of the title, the man cleared his throat and lowered his eyes. “The Starks are beside themselves, and continue to search.”

“From what I have heard, Ser Brienne was, is quite a skilled warrior.” Cersei corrected herself and feigned worry. Jaime’s grew sick not only at her false praise of Brienne, but also from his own fear for the woman he truly loved. “I do hope nothing dreadful has happened to her.” Cersei finished, her voice lingering on the more dire parts of her sentence as she turned to fully regard Jaime’s reaction.

Jaime could feel Cersei’s eyes burning holes into him, as he forced himself to breathe. His jaw was steel, his fists were knots. All he wanted was to run from the throne room, jump on a horse, and race to the North to find Brienne. He did not dare. He could not allow Cersei any indication that his heart was a terrified slab in his chest. The only way he knew it was still beating was the sound of it pounding in his ears. He was not aware that he was as pale as a ghost.

His mind churned with fear and questions. What had happened? Where was she? Was she lying injured or dead in a ravine somewhere? How could she have been missing so long with no trace? He wanted to scream. Jaime bit his tongue in order not to yell a tirade to the heavens. Oh Gods! Where was she?

As the weeks went by, when he stared at the sky in the dark of night, Jaime now prayed to the Seven to find her. To keep her safe. To watch over her, and to somehow reunite him with her. He tried to sneak a message to Tyrion, who had taken refuge at Casterly Rock after Daenarys Targaryen’s defeat. Many of the Lannister bannermen in the West were highly loyal to him, and even Cersei knew she dare not challenge his lordship of their ancestral home. Jaime had written his note begging Tyrion for word of Brienne a number of times in the secrecy of night, but Cersei never allowed him to leave her side. He could find no way to send it. Jaime became a walking ghost, overwhelmed with secret grief over Brienne.

Jaime also noticed another curious suspicion as the weeks passed. He noticed that Cersei’s belly was not growing round with his child. Her figure was still as flat and lean as it had been the day he returned to her. When he confronted her about the oddity, she cried hysterically and told him that she had miscarried and had not wanted to tell him, because she felt the disappointment would devastate him. It was Jaime himself who reminded her that he had not left her side in weeks, and could not understand how such an event could have passed in such mundaneness, and without his knowledge. Growing more and more suspicious, Jaime pressed the issue. That was when Cersei admitted that she had been so afraid that he would not return to her, that she had lied about her pregnancy. There had never been a child.

It had all been a lie. Jaime had left Brienne because he thought it was his duty to honor the child he had created, and it had never existed. He knew his sister was capable of horrible things, but this? This could never be forgiven. Something in him snapped upon learning the truth. Some tiny thread of connection was cut, and he saw her for what she truly was, a monster. He raged, screaming venom at her for a day and a night. He cursed her name to the Gods until no sound would come, and he could taste the blood from his raw throat rising into his mouth. By the time he was through berating her, even her tears flowed like rain. He could barely stand and practically crawled his way to the door.

“Where are you going?” Cersei begged over her sobbing.

“Anywhere I don’t have to look at you.” Jaime spewed in return.

“But you have nowhere else to go.” She cried haughtily. “No one will take you in.” She reminded him. “Your friends in the North certainly will not accept you after you allied yourself with me.” She declared. “I am all you’ve got.”

Jaime glared at her. He knew she spoke the truth. Queen Sansa would not trust him after he had left to return to Cersei. Even if he did, and even if he found Brienne alive and well there, she surely would not want him. Not now, after what he had done to her, after so many months had passed. If she were not there, then what was the point? He knew Cersei was right, there was truly no place for him but here. He was a walking dead man without Brienne anyway, so what would it matter? He breathed a defeated sigh as he turned and slammed the door behind him. Jaime reluctantly stayed. He did his duty in guarding his sister, but he never shared Cersei’s chamber again.

The animosity grew between Jaime and Cersei as the long months passed. He barely spoke to her, and her anger seethed poisonously in his direction. He was as a prisoner. Constantly, he watched for an opening to escape. To free himself from Cersei’s grasp. To leave to find Brienne. He was never left alone. Her henchmen followed him day and night. Finally, he began to wish she would kill him and put him out of his hopeless misery. So the endless days passed for Jaime.

Several months later he stood beside Cersei’s Iron Throne, wishing one of endless stream of courtiers and bannermen brought before her would make an attempt on her life. He would not stop them. Growing contemptuous and weary of the proceedings, he began to take his leave. He took a few steps away from Cersei, but she stopped him, looking disappointed and hurt.

“Oh Jaime, dear.” She protested. “You cannot leave now.” Her psuedo-sweetness made him want to vomit. “You will miss your surprise.” She cooed.

“What?” Jaime grunted, looking at her sideways, wondering what torture she had in store for him now.

Cersei motioned to a parade of guards who quickly marched out of the throne room to retrieve the object of which Cersei spoke. Jaime rolled his eyes and sighed impatiently. He was in no mood to be toyed with. She waited excitedly, perched on the edge of her throne, drumming her fingers on the iron arm.

After an interminable wait, the door at the opposite end of the room burst open. The first wave of guards rushed in and took their place along the sides of the wide main aisle. Another throng of armored escorts entered the room. In their midst was a prisoner, filthy from the dungeon, barefoot and dressed in dirty rags. The prisoner was tall with blonde hair hanging matted just above the shoulder. The captive writhed and screamed trying to get away. The procession had only traveled a few feet when Jaime’s heart stopped, and the color drained from his face with realization.

The hostage in their grips was Brienne, and she was very heavily rounded with child.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime watches in horror at sword point as Cersei’s guards drag a very pregnant Brienne before the Iron Throne. His hearts breaks as he realizes she has been held captive in the dungeon of the Red Keep since she went missing from the North, all the while carrying his child. His anger at a Cersei seethes. His mind races to find an escape route.

Jaime stared ahead of him, unable to take his eyes from Brienne, as she struggled and fought as much as her large babe-filled belly would allow. It was not enough to free herself from the guards who held her bound. Her angry, terrified wails filled the vast room, and tore Jaime’s heart apart. This had been the reason Brienne had not been found. She had not even been in the North. She had been brought to Kings Landing, and held captive in a cell beneath his feet this entire time. Jaime’s mind relived the time they had shared at Winterfell. He knew the babe that burgeoned in Brienne’s womb was his. Cersei had kept Brienne imprisoned here in the dungeon as she carried his child. He would not have imagined even Cersei could be that cruel. Yet the proof was in front of him. Unable to breathe, his jaw hanging in shock, he turned questioning eyes to his sister and realized that was exactly what she had done.

Cersei turned her head coolly to regard him, and the vengeful anger which glared upon her face chilled the blood in his veins. “Did you think I did not know?” She asked him rhetorically. “I have spies everywhere. I had spies even at Winterfell, Jaime.” She confessed. “Nothing happens in Westeros that I do not know about, Darling Brother.” Cersei scoffed.

Jamie knew then that Cersei meant to complete that which he had feared, the threat that had driven him from the side of the woman he loved in the first place. Cersei’s plan was to kill Brienne and their babe, and leave him as witness. He had no time to feel his heart soar at the sight of his beloved, nor to feel it warm at the thought that it was she who would bear his child. His sorrowful eyes fell mournfully upon Brienne’s face, as she was marched the last few steps to the floor below Cersei’s scowl. Unable to fight any longer, her expression held the same dread that Jaime’s did. It was as if she knew what was about to happen, as if she had been waiting for it.

Still held forcibly by the guards, Brienne was escorted the final distance to stand before Cersei. Upon reaching the Queen’s gaze, the burley beast who squeezed her beneath her right arm, jerked Brienne off her feet and threw her to the ground in order to show the proper reverence to their ruler. Brienne landed on her swollen belly with a painful yelp. Looking up through her suffering, her eyes caught Jamie’s as he lurched forward, hand on his sword hilt, ready to spring. Before he could reach Brienne, two more guards rushed ahead, and halted Jaime’s progress with the points of their swords. He stopped breathlessly, knowing he would be of no help to her if they ran him through. He noted the face of the man who had just harmed Brienne. The guard would not live to see another sunset, Jaime’s reeling mind vowed. With great effort, Brienne finally managed to push herself up to her knees.

Anxiously, Brienne knelt beneath the Iron Throne, her hand tense as it lay on the side of her abdomen trying to calm the excited movement that the rush of her exertion and the pain of her fall had cause in her babe. Her stare held Cersei fearfully, for the power she knew the woman had over herself and her child. Yet, Brienne’s eyes also held a contempt at Cersei’s hatefulness and cruelty. For a moment, Jaime’s pride burst in his chest. Despite the months living in captivity, and existing at an abominable level of pain and abuse that he did not even want to imagine, there was still a prideful fire in Brienne’s soul. He knew she would fight to the end for her child’s life. So would he. It was then, that he realized that Brienne would not bring her gaze to him.

“Ser Brienne.” Cersei grinned mockingly. “How good of you to join us.” She said with a wicked flourish. Brienne said nothing. She merely sat, staring in silence.

Moments later, viciously poked in the shoulder by the point of another guard’s sword, Brienne answered flatly. “Your Grace.” Jaime heard a haunting dread in her voice.

“I trust your time as our guest has been,” Cersei paused, looking condescendingly at Brienne. “...adequate.” She smirked. Again, Brienne said nothing.

“Cersei. Stop this!” Jaime begged. She simply raised her hand to quiet him. His concern for Brienne was so great, that he obeyed.

“Let’s get on with it.” Cersei announced to the guards, rhetorically.

“Ser Brienne.” Cersei straightened on the throne, authoritatively. “You are charged with theft.” She proclaimed.

“What?” Jaime’s face contorted with confused rage. Cersei ignored him and continued, directing her address to Brienne.

“You have stolen something very dear to me.” Cersei continued, glancing quickly at Jaime. “Something I fear I shall now never enjoy returned to me.” She charged, sounding wounded.

Jaime understood that Cersei meant him. She meant his heart. “She did not steal anything.” He bellowed. “It was freely given.” He corrected. “It was always hers.” He looked lovingly at Brienne, who lowered her eyes and looked away.

Brienne turned her face to Cersei, and dropped her hands to the floor. She understood why she had been brought before the Iron Throne. She knew what Cersei had planned for her, and her unborn child. She would beg, if she had to. “Please. Please Your Grace.” She implored frantically. “I beg you. Please allow me bear my babe.” Frightened tears began streaming down her face, as she unconsciously stretched her fingers around her middle to guard the tiny being she held within. Desperately, she continued her plea, weeping. “Send the child to my father on Tarth, and you can do anything you want to me.” She beseeched, her breast heaving with sobs. “Just, please let my baby live.” Brienne cried.

“Cersei.” Jaime shouted in shock. “Surely you wouldn’t.” He trailed off as she stared him, now certain that his sister would indeed slaughter both Brienne and the baby. Jaime’s heart broke at Brienne’s hopeless appeal. He had to find a way to get her out of there to safety. Before he could move, Cersei’s maniacal laughter filled the hall.

“Oh, Ser Brienne.” Cersei corrected. “Be assured, I will do with you and your bastard whatever it is that I please.” She chuckled. “And you are in no position to ask for anything.” Her tone rose to match her angry mood. Brienne sat trembling at the thought of what was to come. Jaime’s anger was growing as his mind raced to find an escape route.

“Oh, please do not think me unsympathetic to your plight.” Cersei said to Brienne, with mocking compassion. “I remember what it was like being so far along with child,” She attempted civility. “You must be extremely weary from your endeavor.” She nodded knowingly.

“You look as if you might bring your bastard forth anytime now.” Cersei eyed Brienne’s round form, and then smiled as if had she an inspired idea. “In fact. I think we would be doing you a favor if we relieved you of your heavy burden.” Cersei determined.

Brienne’s eyes grew wide, and she tightened her grip around her child. She shook her head in horror. “No.” She begged through her tears, and tried to move backward toward the far away door.

“Now!” Cersei ordered the guards, as she stood to watch. The armored men moved around Brienne, stopping any hope for escape. They knelt, two each at her wrists and the same at her ankles, as they pinned her to the stone floor. Brienne squirmed with all of her might as one of the guards began to raise the ragged gunny sheath she wore toward her hips. Her terrified guttural shrieks flooded the room and echoed off the soaring ceiling.

Jaime’s heart threatened to explode from his chest as he watched Brienne’s torment. “Cersei!” He cried. “I beg you. Stop this!” He howled, nearly mad with his need to help Brienne.

“No! Your Grace! Please, No!” Brienne screamed in terror and could only writhe against her captors as another man approached her, his long sharp dagger already drawn, ready to cut the babe from Brienne’s womb.

Jamie roared in anger, more a lion than he had ever been before. He could stand there as witness no longer. He would kill them all or die himself before allowing Brienne one more moment of anguish. They would have to kill him to stop him. They had all better hope they killed him. Blood flashed in his eyes. His only purpose was getting Brienne and their child to safety.

In a flash of reflexive movement, Jaime drew his sword against the men holding him at bay. With a wide circle of his blade, he removed the sword hands of both. He then spilled their guts on his follow through. They fell away, unthreatening. Leaping to the edge of the steps, he grabbed Cersei by the hair and grasped her around the waist, holding her close to him with his golden gloved arm. He pressed his blade to her throat with his left hand. She would be human shield for Brienne and the baby.

“Order them off her!” Jaime demanded of his sister. Cersei said nothing, eyeing him challengingly.

He pressed his sword tighter to Cersei’s throat. “Make them stop, or I will cut out your evil heart.” He shouted, insane with worry for Brienne, as she screamed again.

“Stop!” Cersei ordered the guards. Jamie’s blade beginning to tear at her flesh. “Stop!” She shouted.

Jamie pulled Cersei from the Throne and dragged her down the steps. He turned his attention to the men holding down Brienne. “Move away from her.” He ordered. They stood fast in place.

He brought his blade so deep into Cersei’s skin that she gasped, afraid taking a breath would cause it to slice through her throat. “Move away or the The Queen’s blood will stain this floor.” He promised. Cersei gave her men a motionless affirmative, understanding that Jaime was making no idle threat.

Still clamping Cersei by the waist, Jaime focused his efforts on the men. He found the one who had shoved Brienne to the ground and slit the man’s throat before his weapon was even unsheathed. He would bleed to death in a matter of minutes, aware of all that was happening but powerless to do a thing. Brienne crawled slowly out of the way, as Jaime became a killing machine, taking on all the guards with his arm full of Cersei. They rushed him, yet his anger and fervor met each of their advances. Defeat was not an option for him now. He wielded his sword as if it were a part of him, dispatching them easily.

“Let me go!” Cersei screamed, terrified from the blades thrashing around her. Jaime ignored her.

Finally, when the room stood empty of all but the three of them, Jamie quickly sheathed his sword and switched his clenching grip back to Cersei’s head. Each time she squirmed, his grasp tightened until it threatened to scalp her. Jaime knelt in front of Brienne, yanking Cersei to the ground behind him. He reached out with his arm for Brienne to take. He could not bear the mistrust with which she eyed him as she shrank away. Something was wrong, something more than his leaving her, more than her being prisoner here. He vowed to find what had stolen her faith in him. However, now his only thought was getting her out of Kings Landing.

“Please, Brienne.” He whispered. “We have to go.” He told her softly. “Please let me help you.” His eyes were brimming with tears as he implored her to take the arm he offered. It was fear and apprehension that kept Brienne rooted to the ground.

She sat for a moment of uncertainty that broke Jaime’s heart. All he wanted was to gather her in his arms. However, he knew she was extremely fragile. Her delicate condition seemed not only physical. He needed to be careful with her. “Please.” He asked again. “Our baby’s life depends on it.” His eyes begged her to move.

Needing to keep a firm grip on Cersei, the side that Jaime was forced to present to Brienne was the one covered by the golden hand. Her gaze fell upon the shining metal, remembering the moment it had become a necessity. She recalled how she had cared for him, and the trust that had grown between them then. She wanted that security. She made up her mind to try to depend on him now as he had done the same with her, even if she regretted it later. Brienne slowly took hold of his forearm, her fingers trembling, as he lifted her upon her unsteady feet. She knew she needed to find a way out, and Jaime may be the only help that would come. Her heart thrilled to have Jaime so close to her, but she could not forget what Cersei had told her in her cell months ago when her belly began to grow with Jaime’s child. When she had realized that Cersei’s did not. She would go, for the chance to save her child, but she would trust no one. Not even Jaime.

Jaime steadied Brienne as she stood on shaking legs. For a moment he beheld her, thanking the Gods that she had been returned to him. Then, he wrapped his arm gently around her and walked as quickly as he dared out of the throne room, dragging Cersei roughly by the hair. He cautiously stepped out into the passageway that led from the cavernous hall, Brienne tucked safely in his gentle grasp. Cersei thrashing helplessly behind him.

Jaime turned his head to survey his angry sister. “If you cry out, I’ll pin you to the wall and leave you to bleed out.” He promised her vehemently.

He said a prayer of thanks to the Gods that along the quiet passageways the only others they met were chamber maids and timid ladies of the court, easily scared off by the scene. Jaime was far too experienced to think for a moment that they would not go to fetch help for their Queen, and tried to move as hastily as possible. He knew that with each step he was risking their capture. Jaime was desperate to get Brienne out of the Keep. He watched her carefully as they made their escape, vigilant for any sign of distress. Her breath came sharply as their quick pace, and her condition, made their path difficult for her to traverse. She was far too advanced in her pregnancy to even consider a full out run. Brienne’s hand never strayed from her bulging belly, as she attempted to brace the babe within her. Jaime knew that each aisle down which they traveled must have been agony for her.

Finally there was sunlight ahead of them. Jaime breathed a sigh of relief. Knowing they could not enter the streets of Kings Landing dragging the Queen behind them, Jaime let go his grip on Brienne, and pulled Cersei around to face him. His eyes were seething with a rage neither woman had ever seen there before. “This entire time, you kept Brienne in the dungeon.” He shook with venom as he addressed his sister. “You watched her grow large with my child. You looked me in the eye and lied.” He was shaking with hatred. “You were going to kill them both.” He rasped. She was no longer his lover. No longer the mother of his dead children. No longer his sister. She was the monster who had stolen Brienne, and who had tried to take not only her life from him but also that of their unborn child. The babe he had not even know existed until only a few minutes earlier, but for whom he would now give his own life.

Suddenly, he grabbed Cersei by the face, his fingers digging into her skin. He turned her to face Brienne. “Look at her.” He demanded, as Brienne stood in silent fear beside them. Jaime held Cersei’s gaze to meet Brienne’s eyes. “This is the woman I love.” He screamed at his sister. “Not you.” Jamie said contemptuously. “The heart of my child beats in her belly, not yours.” He raged. “I was a fool ever to leave her.” Jaime bristled through gritted teeth. “She is where my heart belongs.” He brought his gaze tenderly to Brienne, his voice calming to match her effect upon him. “It has always been hers, and it always will be.” He vowed. Somehow, someday he would make Cersei pay for what she had done, but not today. He had to see to Brienne.

“Jaime.” Cersei attempted to dissolve into the tears that always got her what she wanted from him.

“Shut up!” He glowered at her. “Shut your mouth, you miserable bitch!” His voice was a stream of pure hatred as he brought up his hand of metal and loosed it across Cersei’s face, knocking her to the ground. Brienne gasped and jumped back as the Queen crumpled unconscious to the stones.

“Come on.” Jaime pleaded as he took Brienne’s hand and led her out into the sunshine, stepping over Cersei’s form on the way. He did not realize until he saw Brienne cringe that the bright rays were a sight she had not experienced in months. The light was excruciating to blue eyes used to a dark cell. He bid her to close her lids and guided her in his arms as they made their way down an overgrown path. He smiled when he saw the fully outfitted horses of the Queensguard tied at the end of the walkway. Choosing the heartiest looking equine, he settled Brienne next to him as he checked the saddle. He did not want a loose buckle to cause her to fall.

Brienne stood beside Jaime as he checked the gear tied to the saddle, finally able to view her surroundings. Her mind was reeling not only from coming so close to death, but also what she had just witnessed between Jaime and Cersei. She spent so long a captive, she was unsure how to feel, especially about Jaime. All she knew was that her baby was alive, and she would do anything she needed to ensure her child’s safety. For a moment she allowed herself to imagine that maybe the things Cersei had told her in her cell were lies. Maybe Jaime really did love her. The memory of a smile crossed her face as she recalled the time they had shared, that had created the precious babe she carried. He seemed to care. She wished she could be sure.

Finally, Jaime was finished securing the horse’s tack. He held out his hand for Brienne to take. She began to cautiously accept his invitation, however as she took a timid step in his direction a sharp twisting pain contorted through her belly. Wincing at the intensity of the contraction, and clutching her abdomen she doubled over in agony. Brienne tried to catch her breath but it could not be found through the pain. She wanted to wail against the torment of her own body, but could only let an abrupt high pitched cry escape her throat.

Jaime was at Brienne’s side in an instant, bracing her against the pain. Feeling helpless, all he could do was offer his hand which he was surprised and grateful that she took, and try to hold her until the spasm subsided. After a few minutes, her muscles relaxed and she was able to stand. They both looked at each other worried, fearful they knew what it meant. It was now more urgent than ever that he get her someplace safe. He knew it would be only a matter of time before Cersei’s army began searching for them, and perhaps the same until Brienne brought their child into the world.

Carefully, Jaime gathered Brienne in his arms and sat her lightly atop the saddle, her legs hanging at the horse’s side. He knew she was in no shape to handle a horse of her own, especially if her laboring had begun. He raised himself into the saddle as delicately as he could behind her, not wanting to jostle her. He was already aware that the ride would be difficult enough for her to endure. Jaime took a moment to make sure Brienne was ready, seeing that nervousness was already beginning to overtake her as she sat holding her round belly uncertainly. He scooped up the reigns, glad his arms on either side would provide her support, and spurred the horse along the road that would lead them out of Kings Landing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having been rescued from her captivity in the Red Keep by Jaime, and on the run from Cersei’s forces, a wary and very pregnant Brienne must accept his help as she goes into labor.

They had ridden for hours. The sun was beginning to slip behind the distant mountain peaks as Jaime pulled the horse to a stop in a small secluded clearing. He had kept them off the main roads, fearful that they would be visible to Cersei’s forces. He was certain her soldiers were already searching for them. Brienne had not spoken since they had left Kings Landing. She had sat forward of him, trembling in the saddle. More pains had gripped her belly as they traveled. Jaime had felt Brienne tense in his arms as each one had taken hold. At first she tried to fight against the spasms, holding her breath as if she could make them stop. Then he could sense her long, slow, heavy sighs during the last few, as she realized there was no use. It was obvious to both of them that her labor had begun. Jaime wondered bitterly if it had been the skirmish in the throne room that had brought on her time.

Pensively, Jaime climbed down from his mount, scanning the vicinity in every direction. Nervous with concern for her, he was hardly able to breath himself as he gently helped Brienne to the ground. He made certain she was steady on her feet before removing his supportive grip from her arm. She braced herself against the horse’s side, her face already wearing the fear of an expectant mother preparing to bring her child into the world.

“Why are we stopping?” Brienne questioned uneasily.

“I need to find something for you to eat.” Jaime explained softly. “To keep up your strength.” He tried to smile at her.

Brienne shook her head. “I’m not hungry.” She told him, her expression showed the nausea her stomach was feeling.

Jaime grew even more worried. “But we don’t know when we’ll get another chance.” He reminded her.

She looked at him incredulously. “I’ve barely been fed for months.” She said with a sneer. “We will be fine.” She rested her hand atop her swollen abdomen, her eyes lovingly gazing at her child before returning her view coldly to Jaime.

His offer denied, Jaime searched urgently for something he could propose to care for her needs. “Rest then, for a moment.” He suggested, motioning toward a pile of fallen timber a few feet away. How he wished it were a stack of down pillows. Eager to sooth her strained muscles, Brienne accepted.

Jaime took her arm gently and led her toward a log that sat next to a tree so she could rest her back as well. Helping her to sit, he then took a place on stump a few feet away. Brienne leaned heavily on the rough bark covered trunk. The scratching of the wood through her garment was almost a welcome distraction from the pains that had been mounting in her abdomen. She leaned her head back, closing her eyes and letting out a long deep exhale, her hands encircling her belly.

“Are you alright?” Jaime questioned, distressed. Brienne bravely nodded without opening her eyes. The tension between them was unbearable.

With her eyelids still tightly shut, Brienne spoke. “Why are we traveling west?” She questioned. She had seen they were heading in the direction of the setting sun.

“What?” Jaime whispered. He had not had time to make a plan for escape. His only concern was to get Brienne to safety. In his mind, that had meant the one place he knew Cersei would now never go.

Brienne opened her eyes and regarded Jaime with trepidation. “You are not taking me to Tarth.” Her statement was more of an accusation than a inquiry.

“That’s the first place they will look.” Jaime shook his head sympathetically, understanding that of course Brienne would want to go home to her father.

“I’m taking you to the only place I know Cersei will not follow.” Jaime announced. Brienne’s brows rose with curiosity. “Casterly Rock.” He finished.

Brienne’s heart sank, as her chin rose defiantly. “The Lannister stronghold.” She confirmed, making it seem more an enemy fortress than a safe haven, or a home. Her suspicions were growing with each word he spoke.

Jaime nodded. “Tyrion is there.” He attempted to ease her mind. “Cersei will never set foot on The Rock while he is Lord.” He was desperate to earn Brienne’s trust. “Our Western bannermen do not support her. She will find no allies anywhere near there.” He smiled reluctantly.

Brienne was quiet for a moment, wanting to run for the horse and gallop away but knowing she could not. Instead she glared at Jaime. “I suppose that is what you would have me believe.” She accused flatly.

Jaime leaned as near to her as she would allow. Confused, he could not follow the direction of her thoughts. “I do not understand.” He told her. “All I want is to get you and our child to safety.” He promised.

“Is it?” Brienne indicted. Her mistrustful stare tore his heart to shreds.

“Of course.” Jaime looked at her, wounded and worried.

“Or maybe that was the plan all along.” Brienne accused.

“Plan?” Jaime stared at her in bewilderment.

“Yes. Plan!” Brienne shot back. “Between you and Cersei.” She argued suspiciously. “To take my baby.” She cried.

“Take your...” Jaime tried to repeat. “Brienne. No...” Words would not form as he searched her nervous face. He had never seen Brienne react to anything with such cynicism and wariness. Something was definitely wrong.

Before he could press the conversation, Brienne grimaced and tightened her grip around her middle as another pain seized her belly. She turned her face away and tried to breath deeply but could only moan as her body clenched around the baby once more. It took only a moment for Jaime to reach her. He knelt beside her, wanting desperately to help but not knowing how. Without a thought, Jaime stretched out his hand and laid it tenderly upon her knee.

In the midst of her agony, Brienne tensed and drew quickly backward from him. “Don’t Touch Me!” She screamed in terror.

Jaime jumped, pulling back his hand as if he had been burned. He was upset at himself and angry at what had placed such fear and doubt in her heart. In the moment it took for him to return his eyes to her face, he realized he had been one of those who had hurt her. All he could do was watch as Brienne’s discomfort grew worse. She moved one hand from her waist to grasp the solid block upon which she sat, her knuckles growing white with the effort. Jaime wished it were his hand for which she had reached.

After several minutes the contraction finally subsided and Brienne looked at Jaime with terrified eyes, her mind returning to her suspicion of Jaime’s true purpose. “You’re going to make me think I can trust you.” She voiced her fear as she trembled. “Then you’re going to take my baby back to her, and leave me to die.” She nodded to herself, sure of her accusation. “You’re going to let her kill it. You’re going to let her slaughter my child.” She began to cry, overcome with fright.

“What?” Jaime asked growing increasingly more fearful for Brienne. “Please believe me.” He begged. “All I care about is you. You and our baby.” Jaime swore. He looked down adoringly at her round abdomen, wanting to wrap his arms around them. Brienne scoffed at him, rejecting his appeal.

Brienne could no longer hold her anger. “Cersei told me you knew.” She interrupted him. “She told me what you said.” She stared at Jaime with fire and hurt in her eyes.

“Knew about what? Said what?” Jaime questioned, his mind struggling to comprehend it all. “Brienne, you’re not making sense. Please help me understand.” He begged.

Through her tears, Brienne watched him warily. She began to explain the reasons for her despair. “Not long after it became clear that I was expecting a child, Cersei came to my cell.” Brienne closed her eyes against the memory. “She said...” Her words caught in her throat. “She told me you knew I was being held under the Keep. She said you were told about the baby, but that you did not care about either of us. That you refused to see me.” Brienne recounted the conversation that had caused her mistrust of him, and then turned to him mournfully. “You just left us there, waiting to die.” She whispered, her eyes dropping to the ground, as Jaime’s heart fell to the pit at the bottom of his stomach. Then Brienne revealed to him why she was so afraid of him.

“Cersei told me that when she informed you I carried your child, you laughed.” Brienne tears were falling uncontrollably now, and shattering Jaime’s heart. “She said you told her that any attraction you may have had for me was merely battle lust. That in her absence, you had no other option.” Brienne finally lifted her eyes to him. They were so filled with hurt, that Jaime choked on the sob forming in his throat. 

“Brienne.” Jaime pleaded. “You have to know that was a lie.” He tried to reason with her. “Think of what we shared.” He begged.

Brienne’s jaw clenched in anger. “I did think of our time together.” She said cooly. “Cersei’s explanation is the only one that makes sense. Of course, it must have been battle lust.” She laughed bitterly. “What else would explain how you could quit it so easily.” She questioned Jaime accusingly.

Jaime felt numb. He could scarce comprehend what he was hearing, or that Brienne had believed such vile words. “Is that what you think?” He implored.

Then Jaime realized that had been exactly what he wanted to her think. He had hoped to hurt Brienne so badly, that there would be no chance that she would following him, perhaps to her death. “Please listen to me.” His heart ached to tell her the truth. “Leaving you was the hardest thing I have ever done.” His eyes were distant, reliving that terrible night. “Harder even than killing my King.” He admitted, sadly. “I needed you to think I no longer desired you, so that you would stay safe, protected at Winterfell, far from Cersei’s wrath or any bloody battle that could have taken your life.” Jaime frowned in physical reaction to the thought of what might have befallen Brienne. “I would have done anything to keep you safe.” He vowed. “As hard as it was, as much as it cost me, I would murder my King a thousand times, if it meant keeping you be far from harm’s reach.” He told her. “You are the only thing that means anything to me.” Jaime swore his heart to her.

“Yet, you would not kill your sister.” Brienne spat venomously at him. Jaime could only hang his head in shame, knowing she was right. He should have raced to Kings Landing and taken Cersei’s life, without hesitation. He had been week, too sentimental, and Brienne had paid the price.

“That is not all, Cersei imparted to me.” Brienne looked at him hatefully and shuttered, not wanting to give voice to the disgusting reaction which had been reported to her. She took a deep breath and spat the words at him. “You said our baby was a cancer, worthy only to be cut from my womb and disposed of.” She dropped her face into her hands and sobbed inconsolably.

Jaime fell at Brienne’s feet, unable to believe what he was hearing. There was truly no end to Cersei’s treachery. He wished he had killed her when they left the Red Keep. His mind had been so filled with desperation over Brienne that he could think of nothing else. Jaime’s thoughts reeled at the evil Cersei had spewed at Brienne. This was why she would not look at him as the guards had dragged her into the Throne Room. This was the cause of her distrust of him, even now. He vowed to himself again that Cersei would die for what she had done. He longed to take Brienne’s hand, he want to hold her, but he dared not, not yet. He would have to earn back her confidence, and her love. That which he himself had taken from her, and that which had been stolen by another.

“Brienne.” Jaime’s voice now halted with tears. “You have to believe me. I did not know about any of this.” He tried to explain. “Cersei never said a word to me. The last news I heard of you was when you went missing from the North.” He told her, shaking. “I went nearly mad with worry. I tried to get word of you, but I was never left alone.” He recalled.

Brienne sat trembling and sobbing, her eyes still closed. “Please, look at me.” Jaime implored. “You know what she is. Cersei is more a monster than any dragon which has ever crawled through this world.” He described, hate in his tone. “I beg you, do not give credence to anything she said.” He pleaded.

Slowly Brienne opened her gaze to him. He paused a moment, again feeling the joy of simply having her back. “I would give my left hand before I would ever say anything of the sort about either of you.” His voice trembled. “You have been returned to me.” His smile was like that of a man retrieved from the brink of a hopeless abyss. “Our babe is the greatest blessing I could imagine.” He pleaded with her, aching to hold her in his yearning arms. “I was a fool to ever have left you, and will spend the rest of my life proving that to you. If you will let me.” Jaime looked at her, stricken with fear that she may never want him again. “I love you, and only you.” He vowed. “With all of my heart.” Jaime declared to Brienne.

Brienne watched him cautiously. His words and the bereaved manner in which he spoke appeared genuine. She had seen pain in his eyes before. At Harennhal, he opened his emotions to her and trusted her so implicitly that she could not help but feel a bond beginning to grow. At Winterfell they had come so close to forever. She sighed sadly. That had been a long time ago. Before she had been held prisoner, and threatened, and terrorized. Brienne had been through too much not to be vigilant with her trust. Her child’s life was far too important to make the same mistakes she had in the past.

Brienne could not look in Jaime’s face. Her eyes stared into the distance over his shoulder, so hurt that emotions would not break through the walls she had built. She felt dazed as her words left her lips. “Why did you not kill her?” She asked, the confusion and disappointment echoed in Jaime’s ears.

She was right. Jaime could not deny the truth in her allegation. The weight of his failure settled over him like a dark cloud. He should have killed Cersei before he had seen Brienne out of the Red Keep. He had been presented with the perfect opportunity. His blade should have tasted his sister’s blood. His fingers should have crushed the breath from her throat. He should have never abandoned the woman he loved at Winterfell. Of course Brienne would think him in league with his sister and her villiany. His blunder shamed him.

Jaime knelt before Brienne, bowing in despair. “You are right.” He conceded. “Cersei’s body ought to be rotting on the cobblestones, and by my hand.” He agreed sorrowfully. “Please understand that she still lives only because of my desperation to see you unharmed. She was a tool to use to see you safe and out of there, a bargaining chip if we needed it.” His eyes bore deep into Brienne’s as he explained. “My only thoughts were you. You and the babe, and protecting you.” He swore.

“You could have done nothing greater to protect us, than to have killed her then and there.” Brienne scolded him. “We will never be safe.” She lamented tearfully, protectively spreading her fingers over her child.

Jaime looked at Brienne with compassion, there had to be something he could do to ease her mind. Rising to one knee, he carefully drew the sword at his side from its scabbard. Brienne tensed in dread, not sure what he would do, a reaction that pained him. He softly laid the weapon on the ground at her feet, and lowered his head. “Brienne Of Tarth.” Jaime began. “I am yours.” He vowed. “I pledge my sword, my heart, and all my strength to protect you, and our child.” He stared into her eyes earnestly. “I will shield you both, and guard each of you with my life.” He swore his heartfelt oath at her feet. Brienne’s eyes, for the first time showed him a measure of softness, but only a careful portion. She remembered his lament, as they had bathed at Harrenhal, of the vows that had been forced upon him. This, was one however, of his own choosing. No one had demanded it of him. Brienne breathed a small bit easier at his apparent devotion, although most of her still remained keenly attentive and anxious.

Jaime nodded to her when he was finished, and began to sheath his sword. Suddenly, a few yards from the clearing came the sound of galloping horses. They were heavily laden with loud armor and gear. There were more than a few. Jaime and Brienne glanced at each other fearfully. There was no way Jaime could fight off as many as it seemed approached. They held their breath and waited. Closer and closer the detachment rode until they were almost upon the small clearing that hid the two fugitives. Jaime positioned himself in front of Brienne and held his sword at the ready. Brienne could only quiver with dread, unable even to inhale.

They scanned the distant trees that hid the clearing for any sign of approaching foes. They feared the sounds of their racing hearts would give them away, as they waited. To their relief, the horses and their riders did not see them. They raced passed the hiding place, on their way to search elsewhere. Jaime and Brienne knew there would be more following and were eager to be gone from the area.

“We need to go.” Jaime proclaimed, standing and holding a hopeful hand to Brienne to help her up. He was overjoyed when she took it.

Brienne rose carefully to her feet, aided by Jaime’s grip. Before she could take a step a grimace painted her face, yet another pain ripping through her body. She reached out to grab the tree against which she had leaned for support and stumbled over the fallen log, losing her balance and nearly plunging to the ground. Jaime caught her and held in his protective arms until she steadied herself. Their eyes caught each other’s gaze. For a moment there was nothing between them, and it was as if the missing months had never happened. Then, they were reminded of the life they had created that was begging to be born. Brienne groaned with the pain of her labor. Then, pulling herself from Jaime’s grasp, her mouth agape in shock her eyes traveled to the ground. Jaime’s followed her look downward and realized the cause of her dismay. A large puddle of liquid was gathering at her feet. Her water had broken. The baby was going to arrive soon.

“It’s coming.” Brienne cried out in fear. Her eyes showing the panic that her heart was beginning to feel.

Unwilling to be patient any longer, Jaime scooped Brienne in his arms and set her back onto the horse as carefully as he could. Nearly jumping into the saddle behind her, he nudged the animal into motion. They could not return to the road. There would undoubtedly be more patrols waiting for them. Instead he took them deeper into the forest, Brienne tensing in arms as her body tormented her. They both knew there was not much time. Brienne’s delivery would not wait. They would have to bring their babe into the world together, alone, and in the middle of nowhere.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the run and hiding from Cersei soldiers, Brienne must try to trust Jaime again as he helps her deliver their newborn in the middle of nowhere.

Jaime was thankful for the cover of darkness. It provided a means of escape. Riding deeper into the woodlands, the distance between Brienne and Cersei’s grip grew. It should have given him a sense of relief. However, as civilization became more removed from them, his worry for Brienne increased. Her laboring was growing worse, he knew he would need to find shelter for her soon. All he wanted for her was a soft bed and warm fire. As it was, the chance was becoming greater that she would be forced to deliver their child in an open field or a thicket of brush. He found himself wishing for even a cave. At least it would be secluded. A stinging cruel reality occurred to him that their babe would enter the world welcomed by the chill of the night air, on a blanket of dirt.

Brienne was in agony. Jaime could tell their forced journey was torturous for her. She had long since abandoned her vow to stay distant from him and now leaned heavily against his shoulder. Her body was ravaged by the pains which were coming faster, lasting longer, and twisting her belly harder with each passing mile. Her breath burst from her lungs in uncontrollable gasps. The pain-filled whines that had escaped her throat in the clearing had become louder until her deep guttural groaning drowned out even the sound of their horse hooves.

“I’m sorry.” Brienne gulped, squeezing her eyes shut. “I don’t mean to be so loud.” She panted regretfully.

Jaime shook his head against hers. “No.” He told her forcefully. “You do not apologize for anything.” He assured her. “There is no one around for miles. Howl if you need to.” He thought he felt her smile weakly against his neck, and it made him feel a little better, but only for a moment.

“I will need to stop soon.” Brienne forced through her desperate moans. Her fingers trying to calm the spasms in her abdomen by drawing circles over her swollen belly. She was beginning to feel the pressure of the baby moving downward in her hips.

“I know.” Jaime answered intensely. He tightened his arms around her. She allowed it.

The urgency with which Jaime drove the horse escalated. He had to find a place. Healers or even inns were out the questions. Someone might recognize them. There were none in the direction they rode anyway. He would not even trust a sept. Perhaps some cloistered monastery, or a tiny hidden farm. Anyone he would find in places of that sort would hold no loyalty to the crown. He was sure of that. He feared there would be nothing along their path.

‘Gods in the Heavens.’ His soul screamed silently. ‘Please. She deserves better than this.’ He implored the Seven. ‘She deserves better than me.’ Jaime admitted to himself.

As if in answer to his prayer, the moon broke through the clouds, it’s light illuminating a tiny derelict cottage ahead of them. Jaime and Brienne breathed a collective hopeful breath as the shack came into view. Brienne sat up a little. Anywhere would be better than the hard awkward saddle she had known since her labor began. As they approached, it was clear the structure was abandoned. The walls seemed to be supported by the ivy that shrouded them, and a good portion of the roof was missing, but it would keep Brienne out of the night breezes and that was all Jaime cared about. With a rush of hope, he noticed a stone chimney still standing tall on one side of the little house. Perhaps there could at least be a fire.

Jaime pulled the horse up slowly in front of their small sanctuary, vigilant for any threats but finding none readily apparent. For a moment he felt Brienne relax in his arms. She let out a lengthy and relieved sigh through her pursed lips. Her respite did not last long. She slumped forward over the horse’s neck, the aching in her body growing more urgent. Her loud wail pierced the night. Swallowing his own panic Jaime jumped from the saddle, sliding Brienne carefully into his arms. She crumpled into his grasp, any resistance gone. His heart frantic, the woman he loved nestled protectively in his arms ready to give birth to his child, he rushed her inside the little hidden refuge he had finally found.

The interior was not much bigger than the cell Brienne had fled, and was possibly even more filthy than its outside surroundings, but it was sheltered and it was free. The remains of an ancient chair stood in the middle of the room. The back had rotted away long ago, but the seat was firm and would provide Brienne a moment’s rest. Jaime gently eased her down onto the stool, and ensured that she was settled before backing away. He hastily removed his armored chest plate, having become adept at doing so with only one hand over the years. He checked Brienne quickly and began heading for the door. She leaned over her pain, and tried to rub it away, her other hand running up and down her aching thigh.

“Where are you going?” Brienne questioned nervously, angry with herself for the fear she felt at the thought of his absence.

“I have to hide the horse.” Jaime explained, trying to calm the frenzy of alarm in his voice. “In case a patrol happens upon us.” He continued.

Brienne nodded her understanding. Of course he was right. “Hurry.” She pleaded, though still not trusting him completely.

Jaime nodded in agreement, and ran out of the doorway. Outside he grabbed the horse’s reigns and ran with the creature into the woods. He ventured as far as he dared to ensure their secrecy, but still be able to return quickly to Brienne. After securing their needed mount to a tree he unlatched the full packs from the saddle. He found himself thankful that the horse’s owner, one of the guards he had killed in the Red Keep to protect Brienne, had been a meticulously prepared soldier. Jamie was happy to see that the bedroll which was tied to the saddle included a light woven blanket. There would be something in which to wrap their newborn. He unbuckled the saddle, and dragged the fur pad beneath across his shoulder. Something for Brienne to lie upon as she gave birth to their child. The horse stripped of supplies and secured for the night, Jaime rushed back to the cottage.

He found Brienne in the throws of another harsh contraction. She paced the floor clutching her belly with one hand, supporting her aching back with the other, and trying to breathe through the pain. Hating himself for having to leave her for even a few moments, Jaime dropped the leather satchels he carried by the doorway, and rushed to her side. He wanted so badly to help her, but knew he was only a bystander. This was her work. He was also certain that she was still highly, although mistakenly, suspicious of him. He wished he could somehow ease her mind, and her pain.

“Are you alright?” Jaime asked, feeling more helpless than he ever had before.

“No.” Brienne shot back vehemently, stifling the groan in her throat. “I am having a baby.” She eyed him scornfully.

Jaime lowered his head, feeling to blame for her pain. Eager to appease her, he stepped to the pile of supplies he had retrieved and grabbed the fur saddle blanket. He spread it on the floor by the wall near the hearth, and offered it to her. “It should be a silken quilt.” He admitted, his brow creased with shame. She ignored him, but approached the thick pelt covering, hoping for comfort. Brienne stepped upon it, and supported her shoulder against the wall. She leaned there clasping her painful belly. In her heart she was thankful that there would be something between her and the cold stones which were too much like the cell she had known in the Red Keep.

Jaime strode quickly back to the saddle bags and searched through them for a flint with which to strike a blaze in the hearth. He found it easily, but realized there was no firewood. “I need to gather some kindling.” He felt like a bumbling idiot, but he could barely see in the darkness. There was no way he could help Brienne deliver the baby that way. She responded with a nudge of her head into the air and waved him away, far too intent on breathing through her spasms to care what he was doing. His heart wrenched at the sound of her loud moan as it followed him out of the doorway.

He stumbled outside and wasted no time gathering fallen branches, pulling down low lying limbs, and grabbing scrub from the ground. His arms full, he ran back inside in time to hear Brienne scream in misery, and see her slide down the wall to which she clung. Sinking to her knees on the shaggy blanket, she wrapped her arms around her tortured body and rocked in agony to a rhythm only she could hear.

The baby was coming quickly, and Jaime was overwrought with fear. He threw the timber he held into the fireplace and took the flint from his pocket, setting it on the old stone hearth next to the wood. Drawing the dagger from his pocket, he began striking at the block, needing a spark to light the dry tinder. The sharp metallic sound rang through the tiny room with a loud clanking pattern.

Her focus distracted by the annoying shrill beat of metal on flint, Brienne looked up angrily. “What are you doing?” She yelled, squinting and bracing her buffeted abdomen.

“A fire.” Jaime answered, hectically. “So you’re warm, and for light.” He was trying to help but felt like he was making everything worse. Brienne lifted her eyes to him showing she understood the need for the horrible sound that had ruined her concentration. She then laid heavily down on her side upon the fur blanket, and drew in around herself preparing for the ordeal to come.

Finally the fire flared, and Jaime stoked the flames to a decent sized blaze. With some minor tending it would be enough to warm the small interior throughout the night. Satisfied that it would not die out, he went over to where Brienne lay and knelt beside her. She was curled up, facing the wall, moaning through her breaths. Timidly and hopefully, he rested his hand on her elbow.

Anxiously, Brienne bolted away from him. “No!” She cried. “Go away!” Her order was fierce and direct.

He stooped on the floor beside her, flustered. “Brienne.” Jaime began, trying to be as calm as his racing heart would allow. “You need help.” He reminded her, sympathetically.

She raised herself to a seated position, her legs stretched to either side of her, and leaned back on her trembling arms. Her chest heaving with exertion. “I can do it myself!” She asserted through gritted teeth.

“Please.” He begged, hopelessly.

She brought her determined eyes to his. The look on her face was angry and suspicious. “I don’t want you near me.” Brienne screamed. Jaime realized that she still believed he was there to take the baby away. His heart broke yet again as he lowered his head and moved from her side. He perched against the wall across the room and sat tensely guarding her.

Brienne watched him retreat. When she felt he was at a safe distance from her and her baby, she settled onto her back, her knees bent upward, her pained face searching the sky for relief through the missing ceiling. She was deep into her labor, and could no longer tell where one pain stopped and the next one started. She clutched handfuls of the blanket beneath her, twisting the fur into knots around her fists. Her voice had become a ragged wail against the pain. Her back arched with the force beginning to take hold of her belly.

Only a few feet from her, Jaime may as well have been a hundred miles away. He felt useless. What was worse was the thought that he was adding to Brienne’s torment. His mere presence was more of a burden. He feared that her worry over being separated from the baby was making her delivery more difficult. This should have been the happiest time of her life, of their lives, and it had been made a trauma by the wickedness of his sister. His heart raged to think Brienne might never truly recover from her captivity. He sat alone, isolated from the birth of his child, trying to will Brienne’s body to have mercy upon her.

Suddenly, Brienne drew in a sharp breath and raised herself up onto her elbows. Her eyes grew wide with alarm as she looked down at her swollen belly. She could wait no longer. Drawing her knees back she clutched the blanket harder, and accentuated each puffing breath her lungs tried to make. Jaime watched helplessly as she gritted her teeth and forced her muscles downward, her body needing its first hard push. A straining groan rose from her throat as she closed her eyes, trying to hide from the pressure and pain. Attempting to catch her breath, Brienne’s body would not give her rest and urged her to push again. Finally, after a few minutes she relaxed, her lungs searching for air.

She lay there, her eyes terrified and frantic as over and over again she worked to push their babe toward life. Brienne’s wailing and moaning had become anguished screams that split the dark night. Jaime sat in torment, a useless spectator unable to help, and unwanted. For a moment it appeared that Brienne’s body had taken pity upon her and she was motionless, almost seeming to rest. Watching her intently, Jaime noticed the tears that fell down the side of her face, and realized that her strength was failing her. She stared up into the darkness, gasping, nearly in shock from the pain. Then her frail voice called out.

“Jaime.” Brienne whimpered. “Help me.” She beseeched him.

He was at her side before the words left her lips. Grabbing her hand, he looked lovingly into her face and found a fear and a grief there that made his heart ache. “I can’t.” Brienne closed her eyes, lost in her torture. “I can’t do this.” She sobbed. Then she swallowed hard and looked earnestly at him. “You have to promise me, whatever happens...” She paused, wincing in pain. “You will save the baby.” She begged.

Jaime’s heart refused to accept the meaning behind Brienne’s words. Both of their mothers had succumbed in childbirth, and he would not allow himself to imagine the same happening to his beloved Brienne. He could not lose her. He had just found her again. Jaime shook his head and look solemnly into her eyes, trying to give her strength. “You are going to be fine.” He encouraged her. “You are Brienne of Tarth. The strongest woman in Westeros.” He reminded her, tears now falling from his eyes as well.

She shook her head. “Swear it!” She shouted, distraught.

He did not want her to think he had given up, and could not allow her to quit. However, he needed to ease her mind. “I swear it.” He vowed, reluctantly, unsure if it was something he would really have the courage to do. Could he really cut her body apart to reach their infant should something go wrong? He would not let himself think of that. “Let me help you and we will do this together.” He asked, stroking her sweat soaked hair. She looked at him weakly and nodded. Even if he was conspiring with Cersei to steal the babe from her, she could no longer fight him. Her fear and despair had overwhelmed her.

Carefully, Jaime shifted Brienne so that she could sit up and lean against the wall, her face registering every move as agony. Then, still holding her hand he moved between her open legs. He had no idea what to do. He could only provide her the focus of hope as he waited to catch the baby. It was then he noticed the deep scrapes and scars around her ankles. Brienne had been held in leg irons during the time Cersei had imprisoned her in the dungeon, while she had grown with his child. He caught his breath as a retched regret filled his soul. Of course she could not fully trust him after all she had been through. He would build back the faith she once had in him, and in the world. He would win back her love if it was the last thing he ever did. His eyes tried to show her the strength he was fast losing himself. He would not dare look upon her now with fear.

Jaime gave Brienne a brave smile, and squeezed her hand. Nodding positively, he encouraged her. “Push!” He beckoned, not realizing their was no need. Brienne’s body was now completing the task of birthing their child on its own. Even she had no control over the burning need in her muscles. She eagerly complied, accepting what her body wanted of her, and bore down as hard as she could. Her scream filled the little ancient cottage as her body began to stretch with her child.

Again Jaime ordered, again Brienne pushed, again her screams ripped the night. A few more times and she stared at him in disbelief, her eyes pained and large. Then, although her sight was blocked by her bulging belly, she looked down, her lips trembling. “It’s coming!” She gasped. Jaime finished Brienne’s gaze for her and lowered his stare between her legs. His eyes grew wide to match hers when he saw their baby’s head beginning to emerge from her body.

“I can see the head, Brienne.” He told her smiling in amazement. “Push! Push!” In his excitement Jaime had not realized that his directives had become louder and more urgent. “Push!” He yelled again as she bore down.

“I am pushing!” She shrieked at him, and then began to cry.

He calmed himself in order to tend to her. He had not meant to cause her distress. “I know. I know.” He soothed, rubbing her leg.

Brienne leaned her head back and gulped for air deeply, trying to catch a fleeting breath, then she bent forward. Her body strained to bring forth her child. Her jaws clenched. She groaned with exertion. She pushed with all her might and felt her baby’s head leave her body. Jaime moved his fingers to support their infant’s fragile neck. Brienne let out an anguished wail as she pushed the babe’s shoulders out. Her hands had moved to grasp Jaime’s shoulders, bracing herself for the final onslaught.

“You’re doing it!” He reported eagerly. “It’s almost over.” He smiled comfortingly.

Brienne did not take her eyes from his face as she drew another agonized breath and pushed one more time. This time, after a few moments the pain-filled scream that wrenched upward from her throat was replaced by the sound of her baby’s first loud cry. Jaime found his arms filled with his squirming, wriggling son.

“It’s a boy!” He announced to Brienne with a joyous prideful shout. “We have a son!” He smiled up at her.

The happiness on Brienne’s face mirrored Jaime’s as she looked down into the eyes of her precious babe. Eyes that matched her own, much to his father’s delight. Jaime quickly remembered Brienne’s fear that she would be cruely separated from the child, and he gently laid their squalling infant into her reaching arms. Brienne’s breath caught in her throat, her mouth opened to speak but she was unable to find words special enough to describe her feelings. Shaking, she raised the babe to her heart and cradled her newborn in her protective arms, falling back against the wall, her exhausted ragged breathing now accompanying an exuberant smile. Jaime thought to himself that she was an angelic vision holding their child. He watched her through his own happy tears, and felt his heart burst with love and pride for both of them.

Jaime quickly drew the string tie from the neck of his tunic. He knew the cord of tissue that still linked mother and child had to be cut. He was not sure how, but he remembered seeing the remnants of the cords still attached to Joffrey, and Myrcella, and Tommen when they were but infants and he prayed he understood where the cut should be made. Brienne held their son, lost in her reverence of their child. Jaime slipped the thin fiber strand around the umbilical connection and, with the fumbling fingers, somehow managed to tie it as tight as he could near the babe’s stomach. Using his dagger, he gently severed the cord.

He raced to the pile of saddlebags that lay forgotten by the doorway and retrieved the thin blanket he had been so pleased to find earlier. He tore through the packs and found some rags. At least some of them seemed clean. Jaime hastily returned to his position in front of Brienne. She had hardly noticed him missing, her attentions still fully engaged with her newborn son.

Brienne stared in awe at the miracle of her child. Her tears trailed down her face, and splashed onto the boy’s tiny head. She smiled through her happy relieved gasps, her ordeal completely forgotten. The babe stared up at his mother as if he understood the love she held for him, and returned it in kind. The bond between mother and child had somehow already formed. Jaime realized that it was not only the successful birth she was celebrating as Brienne spoke to their tiny babe.

“I did not think I would ever see your face.” Brienne choked breathlessly, caressing her baby. “Or hear your cry.” She confessed to the infant, her eyes sweeping over his tiny form in disbelief that he was actually in her grasp. “Or hold you in my arms.” She wept.

Brienne kissed her baby’s wrinkled little forehead and returned her adoring gaze to his beautiful eyes. “Hello, Little One.” She smiled, already desperately in love. “I am your mother.” She cooed, and rested her forehead with his.

Then she swallowed at the lump in her throat, and shook her head softly. “I don’t even have a name for you.” She said regretfully.

Jaime sat back and listened to Brienne’s heartbreaking lament to their son. He could barely comprehend the despair that must have plagued her these last months. Held a prisoner, and fearing for not only her life but also for that of her child, she had given up hope. She had not expected to be allowed to live long enough to deliver the child she carried safely into the world. So fearful, she had been, of losing the babe that she had tried not to allow herself to become attached to the life that grew within her own womb. It was clear that her attempts at that had failed. Nothing was more important to her than the tiny being she now held. Jaime wanted to rage. He wanted to scream at the Heavens themselves. He wanted Cersei to burn for what she had done to them. Jaime swore that he would get Brienne and their baby safely to Casterly Rock. He would see them settled and well. Then he would find a way to slaughter his own sister in the most painful manner he could imagine.

Before he gave his heart completely to the rage that burned within him, and allowed it to shadow over the face that gazed upon the two people he loved most in the world, Jaime brought his mind back to reality. He raised his eyes to see Brienne’s happy smile washing over him. He did not expect her to regard him with such kindness. He had no hope of even being remembered at such a time. Jaime wanted to give her every moment she needed to grow the bond with their child.

“Would you like to hold your son?” Brienne offered kindly. She looked at him timidly, almost smiling.

Jaime caught his breath and stared at her. His eyes amazed. She trusted him, at least a little. He had earned back that much. Her confidence in him warmed his heart. “Yes.” He nodded, smiling widely at her, his heart ached to feel their child in his arms. “May I?” He questioned, hopefully.

She raised her eyes to his, and affirmed her approval by leaning forward. Jaime held out his trembling arms, and Brienne laid their baby carefully in his grasp. Still kneeling close to her, Jaime nestled his son to his chest and wept tears of joy. He raised the boy to his face and nuzzled his tiny cheeks. The babe lifted his little hands and explored Jaime’s nose and beard. He beamed with the unconditional love that washed over him. Raising his eyes, he saw Brienne watching them with what could only be described as adoration. It gave him reason to hope.

Peering down at the babe in his arms, Jaime was quiet, thoughtful for a moment. Then he looked seriously at Brienne, and stared deeply into her eyes. “Galladon.” He announced, earnestly. “His name should be Galladon.” Jaime decided. He remembered hearing of how close Brienne had been with the brother that had been lost to her when she was but a girl. He could think of no better way to honor her.

Brienne’s eyes filled with happiness. She looked at Jaime with a kindness that had not been there that afternoon when first he had seen her again. He had chosen her own dear brother’s name, for their child. He could never understand how much that meant to her. She fought to hide the emotions that played behind the blue depths of the pools in which Jaime wanted to drown. She wanted to trust him again. She wanted to love him again. It would take time. He would give her that.

“It’s perfect.” Brienne agreed in a near whisper, officially naming their child.

Jaime smiled and looked down at Galladon, now sleeping in his arms. “He is perfect.” Jaime praised. Even through all of her ordeal, Brienne had somehow managed to keep their babe safe, and deliver him healthy and well into the world. Jaime looked proudly at his boy. His son. Here was a child he could finally claim. He could walk through the world with this child in hand and loudly proclaim that he was his, blessed to him by the woman he loved more than his own life. Overwhelmed, he gazed at Brienne once more. He could understand the fatigue he saw beginning to take hold of her, but his worry found him once more when he noticed her expression tinged with alarm.

“Jaime.” Brienne peered between her legs, her voice anxious.

Jaime looked down to see a rush of blood and tissue seeping from her body. He grew worried, thinking something was wrong.

“I remember my septa explaining to me when I was young.” Brienne eased. “That’s normal.” She told him, soothingly.

“Let me help you.” He smiled at her, returning their son to her waiting arms. He took one of the rags he had found and gently cleaned her. Then he use it to gather up the afterbirth and set it aside.

“Can I have one of those?” She asked softly. He handed her a fresh cloth, which she used to clean their son of the remnants of his birth. Jaime watched as Brienne carefully dabbed and dried the babe of what remained of the wet fluid on his skin. He then helped her wrap their child in the blanket he had been saving.

“I will need more of those rags.” Brienne told him bashfully. “I will bleed for a while.” She looked down.

“Do not worry about a thing.” Jaime assured her. “I will take of you.” He promised. “Certainly no more than you did for me.” He remembered her care of him when his sword hand had been taken, and the closeness that had grown between them. He wished he had been true to himself and opened his heart to her then. He would spend his life trying to make up for the time he had stolen from them. He took another clean piece of fabric and gently pressed it between her legs. She gave him an embarrassed but thankful dip of her chin and lowered her eyes. Before Brienne could respond baby Galladon awoke and began to fuss in her arms.

Jaime crained his neck urgently to check their son. “Is there something wrong?” He questioned Brienne, immediately fearful.

She gave him a quieting look, and bent her head to her newborn. “He is fine.” She assured the boy’s father. “I believe I know what he needs.” She smiled lovingly at her son, and settled back against the wall. She could feel the need to nourish her infant mounting in her own body. Realizing the neck of the thick grubby garment she wore provided no freedom for her to nurse the babe, she improvised. “May I borrow your dagger?” She asked Jaime simply, without explanation.

He stared unsure at her, but could deny her nothing. Even if she plunged the blade into his own heart, he would be forever grateful in whatever Hell took him, to have had this time with her. Carefully he lifted the knife from his belt and pressed the handle into her outstretched palm. He watched as she held the baby aside, and pointed the tip at her chest. “No Brienne, wait.” Jaime begged, fearful she was trying to injure herself.

Brienne barely heard him as she continued her plan. She poked the dagger into the sackcloth fabric below her breastbone, and lifted her chin out of the way. With a quick upward slice, Brienne cut a ragged edged opening in the heavy weave, and then handed the weapon back to Jaime. He reddened with embarrassment at his mistake. She grinned a little at him. With her free hand, she moved the fabric aside exposing her full breast next to the baby’s waiting lips. The child needed no coaxing, but quickly latched on and began greedily suckling from his mother. Brienne let out an amused chuckle, and relaxed as she watched her child feeding for the first time.

Jaime sat back and pulled his legs up under himself, enjoying the pleasant scene. “Where did you learn to do that?” He asked her. An amazed expression on his face.

Brienne’s amusement increased, and she barely looked up as she answered him. “There is no great skill involved.” She assured him. “My child is hungry. I feed him.” She explained. “It’s an instinct, I suppose.” She shrugged her shoulders. He smiled as she enjoyed her first moments of motherhood. Jaime was in awe of her.

They sat together in an easy silence. The gentle understanding they were enjoying was almost the same as it had been between them before. For a moment they could imagine that none of it had happened. They could almost believe that Jaime had never left her. They could, if only for a short while, pretend that Brienne had never been held prisoner by Cersei. They could lose themselves adoring their child, and might as well have been in the luxury of Casterly Rock, or Evenfall, or Winterfell. ‘Where they should have been.’ Jaime thought to himself, watching Brienne move their son to her other side.

It was then Jaime noticed the exhaustion beginning to draw Brienne’s happy smile downward. Her eyes were growing heavy, and her sighs deepening. She had been through an ordeal, and Jaime vowed that neither Brienne nor Galladon would ever know such fear again. He watched silently as Brienne finished nursing their son and replaced her clothing around herself. She lifted the infant carefully to her shoulder, rubbing and patting his soft little back. Her head dropped over his. She smiled wistfully at the feel of the soft fuzz that covered the child’s head upon her cheek. Again, she sighed sleepy, but content. Jaime snickered when the babe expelled a tiny belch from his lungs. Then he looked compassionately at Brienne as she returned the baby to her cradling arm and rocked him effortlessly.

“You are exhausted.” Jaime noted. “You should sleep.” He offered softly.

Brienne shook her head, refusing his observation. “No.” She replied groggy from her exertion. “I cannot sleep. I have to watch over him.” She declared, even while flinching at the soreness that was beginning to conquer her lower body.

Jaime shook his head. “Brienne.” He proclaimed with worry. He knew she would fall to illness if she did not rest. “That’s what I am here for.” He smiled gently, hoping she would allow him such an honor.

Brienne looked apprehensive for a moment. She felt as though she did not want to trust anyone with her child. She remembered her fear that even Jaime would take the baby from her. Her shoulders relaxed when she realized that if he had meant to steal their son, they would already be gone. She now understood that the words he had spoken to Cersei as they left the Red Keep, when he declared his hatred for his sister and swore his love to her, were truthful. She also realized that the vicious things Cersei had told her about Jamie were lies. He did love her, and she could see that he obviously loved the son she had just bore him. He was right. She needed to sleep. She had never been so tired. Looking once more upon her infant, Brienne softly nodded her head. She was giving Jaime the trust he had hoped for.

Jaime carefully moved toward Brienne and placed his hand around her shoulder. Gently laying her back upon the blanket, he mounded the top of the fur beneath her head as a pillow, and then helped her stretch out onto her side. He lovingly laid the babe into the crook of her arm so he would be near her, and she would feel any need in him. Brienne noticed Jaime’s care and thoughtfulness and was grateful.

Before he drew his reach from her, Brienne softly touched his hand, and looked up into his eyes. “Thank you.” She acknowledged, knowing that without him she and her son would be dead.

Jaime’s adoring smile washed over her. “Thank you, My Love.” He told her affectionately. She had gone through Hells to bring their child into the world. For a moment his gaze moved to watch their baby sleeping safely in Brienne’s arms. By the time he brought his eyes back to hers, she had already fallen into a deep sleep.

Jaime bent and kissed Brienne’s temple tenderly. He loved her more than anything he had ever known. She had been returned to him, and now there was the precious gift of the child she had given him. He would watch over them through the night. He would watch over them forever. Jaime had never realized this kind of selfless devoted love could be possible. There was none of the domination he had known with Cersei. There were no games. There was no manipulation. Only love, and he would never give it up again. He swore he would allow nothing to happen them. As he sat in the dimming light of the fire, his chosen family by his side, tears streaming down his face, Jaime prayed to the Gods to help him protect Brienne and Galladon. He would give his life if that was what it took. It was clear that by now, Cersei’s forces must be everywhere. The babe was very small. Although she would not admit it, Brienne was very weak. They were still a very long way from Casterly Rock.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the run and hunted by Cersei’s soldiers, Jaime is desperate to find a safe haven for a weakened Brienne and their newborn son.

Brienne slept for good part of the next day after she had delivered their son. She woke to feed Galladon when he was hungry and would then hold him close to her, delighting in her child, until fatigue and soreness would again overtake her and she would drift off once more. Although Brienne was exhausted, she was fitful in her sleep. Jaime did not want to imagine what horrible visions plagued her dreams. He wondered how much of her weakness had been caused by giving birth to their babe, and how much was the remaining result of her time in Cersei’s dungeon.

Jaime was surprised and elated when Brienne gave him charge of their infant. She allowed him to take the child while she was sleeping. A sure sign that the trust they had once known was emerging anew between them, he hoped. He would sit next to Brienne while she slumbered and hold their son close to him, grateful for the time to bond with his child. He remembered bitterly that it was a privilege that had never been afforded him before. Brienne had given him a beautiful child and his joy at that was something to which he could cleave, although worry for the boy’s mother shadowed his thoughts.

Even when Brienne was awake and tending to Galladon as best she could, Jaime did not stray far from their side. He left them that day, only a few times, and even then only for slight moments. He checked and tended the horse, taking the animal deeper into the woods to further avoid detection. He emptied the saddle bags he had stripped from their mount the evening before, and used them to fetch water from a nearby stream. Although nearly half was lost on his return to their makeshift sanctuary and he was sure what he did manage to save tasted like leather, it quenched Brienne’s burning thirst and she did not complain. Late in the afternoon, Jaime managed to snare a good sized rabbit not far from their door, and roasted it on the fire he had kept burning in the hearth. He was eager for Brienne to eat to keep up her strength, and she knew that if she did not nourish herself she would be useless to do so for her babe. Brienne noticed that Jaime did not help himself to their feast until she had eaten her fill. It was the most food she had been given in months, since she had been pulled from her horse in the North and taken prisoner. In her near starvation she was certain it was the best thing she had ever eaten.

Brienne licked the flavorful juices of the meat from her fingers and laid the bones aside on the rag Jaime had used to serve her meal. Jaime held Galladon while Brienne was eating, and he softly returned the babe to her waiting arms once she had finished her feast of roasted rabbit. She moved her garment aside to nestle their child to her breast. As Galladon nuzzled into his mother, Jaime fetched his portion of the game from the roughly carved twig skewer over the fire. He settled down near Brienne and stared at her lovingly while he ate. Her eyes rested sweetly upon their tiny baby. The child was the only thing she had smiled at since they had been reunited. Jamie was thankful that Brienne no longer scowled or trembled in his presence, but he longed for her to gaze upon him once again with love.

Finally, Brienne’s whisper pierced the heavy silence between them. “I believe you.” She looked intently as he raised his eyes to her, almost shocked to hear her addressing him at last.

Barely able to speak, Brienne forged ahead, afraid that if she did not continue she would be unable to say the words that formed in her throat. “Those terrible things Cersei told me about you.” She began, hoping that with her realization the vicious cruelty of the Queen would be erased from her memory. “They were all lies. I see that now.” Brienne raised her eyes to Jaime, the promise of a forgiving smile floating just below their blue depths. “Perhaps I should have known you would not say such things about us.” She admitted, pulling Galladon tighter into her embrace.

Her solemn words, shamed Jaime. How was it that Brienne, after all she had endured was trying to apologize to him? He cast his eyes downward. “I gave you precious few reasons to count me sincere.” He lamented, remembering her face as he had left her at Winterfell.

Brienne was quiet for a moment, her questions written in her expression. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and nervously continued. “You never told me.” She avoided his eyes.

Jaime grew quiet and intense. He feared he understood to what she referred. He could not hide from what he dreaded most. He had to be forthright with her. He owed her that. “Told you what?” He tried to rally his courage to explain.

She steeled herself for his reply. Brienne knew he would be honest, but was not sure she wanted him to be. “Why you left?” The words poured from her mouth as ordinary as if she were asking for him to help with her armor. Brienne almost wanted to cringe. It had been the most painful moment of her life since her own brother had died, and she was making it sound almost common. For a moment she wondered if so much had passed since then that it no longer hurt as much. Then she realized that it was too painful for emotion. Jaime’s leaving had cut her to the core.

Although she was lost in trying to understand her own feelings, Brienne recognized the same confusion and pain in Jaime that had torn her heart to shreds for months. Could it be that leaving her had been as painful for him? Brienne allowed herself to hope for a moment, before bracing for his answer. She feared being hurt all over again.

Jaime watched as the fear returned to Brienne’s eyes. He hated himself. Everything had been his fault. If he had stayed, he would have been there with her since the moment she discovered she was carrying his child. They could have been happy. They would have been together. They might have been married. He had feared that staying would have threatened her life. As it turned out, his leaving did not matter. He had put her in danger anyway.

Unable to bare her grief, the words poured from him like bitter wine from a barrel. “I left you to protect you.” Jaime stared intensely into her eyes.

“Protect me?” Brienne regarded him doubtfully. “I was safe. We were both safe.” She reminded him.

Jaime nodded. “For the moment we were safe.” Then the terror in his memory overwhelmed him. “I knew when Sansa told us of Cersei’s ambush of Daenerys’s fleet, that she would be victorious.”

“You were that confident in her?” Brienne sneered, allowing suspicion to rear its head.

“No.” Jaime shook his head. “I am that practical.” He continued, desperate to make Brienne understand his reasons. “The army Daenerys marched to Kings Landing was weakened and barely alive after the battle with The Dead. They were sport for Cersei’s forces. Those soldiers were fresh, strong, and fully manned.” He confirmed.

Brienne made no attempt to argue as he continued. She knew he was correct. “No matter how right Daenarys was. Even with a dragon, she could not have outlasted the sheer might of the Queens troops.” He confirmed.

“But you led those troops against The Stark army.” Brienne accused him painfully.

Jaime bowed his head in regret. “And I hated every minute of it.” He admitted. “I thanked the Gods that you were not among them.” Jaime closed his eyes, remembering his relief at finding she had not been part of the defeated Stark forces.

“Then, why did you take up arms against them?” Brienne could not veil her utter bewilderment.

“I had to.” Jaime reiterated. “Cersei had to believe that my loyalty...,” He paused painfully. “And my love was with her.” His voice trailed off as tears brimmed in his eyes.

“Oh.” Brienne choked. She was unsure she wanted to continue, and let her gaze fall to the floor. She could not let him see the hurt which was returning to her stare.

Jaime did not need to see her eyes to hear the unspoken accusations in her pained tone. He moved closer and grasped her free hand in his. Brienne tried to pull away, but he held her fingers firm, unwilling to be silent any longer. He drew her hand to him, forcing her to look at his face. “With Cersei in control of all of Westeros, and the Northern troops obliterated, nothing would have stopped her. She would have known, about us.” Jaime assured Brienne. “You would have never been safe. She would have found you. She would have killed you.” He mourned regretfully. “I could not let that happen.” He declared. “I had to keep you safe.” Jaime was ashamed to admit he had been so naive. He held onto Brienne and prayed she understood. 

Brienne lifted her face to Jaime’s impassioned plea. He could read the allegation in her expression. “But it did no good.” She accused. “She found me anyway. She almost killed me.” Brienne’s voice rose with anger. “She almost killed our...” She could not speak the horrible truth of what had nearly occurred. She caressed her babe’s soft head, and allowed the relief that he was alive and in her arms to flow up from her heart and rest on her face.

Jaime relaxed his grip on Brienne’s hand but did not let go. “If I had known.” Jaime began. “If there had been any thought in my mind that you were in that dungeon, I would have torn every brick from the Red Keep to get to you.” Jaime swore. “The only comfort I knew was the thought that you were well out of Cersei’s reach, and protected in the North.” He told her, his voice desperate.

Brienne did not warm to him, even as he swore he would have saved her. She moved her shoulders and withdrew herself back into her garment as Galladon finished nursing and lay sleeping peacefully in her arms. She did not take her eyes from her child. “And what of the baby? Her baby?” She questioned Jaime.

He inhaled sharply, feelings of foolishness swirling with his regret. “I thought returning to Cersei because of the babe was the right thing to do. I thought it was honorable.” He lamented.

“But her belly did not grow with your child, as mine did.” Brienne observed. “She lost it?” Brienne could not help but feel sorry for Jaime. It was his loss as well. Her confusion grew as he shook his head.

“No.” He told her softly. He paused, afraid of her reaction. “It was a lie. There was never any babe.” He looked at her mournfully, grieving the reason that had driven him from her side.

Brienne saw his disappointment and assumed it was caused by the grief for a child who never existed. “I am sorry.” She said quietly.

Jaime shook his head, overwhelmed by her selflessness. “Don’t be.” He said, a caring smile finding his face as he reached to touch Galladon’s tiny fingers. “I have the child I wanted. Our babe.” He then brought Brienne’s fingers to his lips and kissed them. “The one created from our love.” He celebrated.

“I was a fool to have ever left you.” He begged her to understand his remorse, his hand falling to her lap. “I was a coward.” He admitted. “I should have dared Cersei to try to come for you. I should have guarded you with my life, if that would have satisfied her.” He swore in hindsight. “I will regret it until my dying day, and I will spend every moment until then trying be to worthy of you. If you will have me.” He hoped. “I love you, Brienne.” Jaime declared. “I have always loved you. I always will.” He vowed.

Brienne wriggled her fingers free from his grip, and placed her hand softly along his cheek. She could blame him no longer. He had been just as much a victim of evil cruelty as she had, and her heart melted as he spoke. She did love him. She had never stopped, which is what had made Cersie’s lie to her even more damaging. Now free from her imprisonment, and reunited with the man she loved, Brienne thought she could begin to hope for a future with him, but she needed to sure.

“Oh. Jaime.” Brienne sighed, her voice strained by tears. “I love you.” Her eyes stared into his and were greeted with the same emotion she felt brimming from her heart. “As for what our path will hold, I too hope that we can build a life together.” She took a timid breath, and looked down at her sleeping son. “But he is all I can think of right now.” She smiled shyly, hoping Jaime would understand.

A happy wide grin rested upon Jaime face. “It is a start.” He agreed eagerly, knowing it was so much more than he deserved.

They sat there for a moment, drinking in the nearness of each other. It was Brienne who first found the distance between them too great. She leaned forward, hopefully. Jaime read her body and bent to meet her. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, their babe between them. Neither wished to part from the sweet feast of each other, as they enjoyed the taste of what had been so long denied them.

Jaime moved carefully around her. He drew his sword, Widow’s Wail, from its scabbard and laid it on the floor. It sat at the ready to protect Brienne and Galladon if it were needed. Nestling behind her, his back against the wall, he fitted Brienne into the crook of his shoulder. He held her as she held their child. Both had never known such contentment. It was as if finally their searching and longing had come to an end. If they stayed forever in the ramshackle ancient cottage it would have been more magnificent than any castle they had ever known, as long as they were together. Their fingers softly grasped in the fading light, as if fearful the other would disappear. Safe and happy, they drifted off to sleep in the arms of the person each truly loved.  
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Brienne jolted from her slumber, desperate to escape from the horrors of her dream. “No!” She shouted, her mind still clouded with sleep.

She had lain against Jaime, dozing peacefully in his arms until she found herself back in her cell. Her mind once more knew the pain and terror of her captivity. They had come for her. She had known they would. As her belly had grown she was aware that her days were marked. Finally, now was the time. The guards dragged her roughly from the tiny, dark, vermin infested hole that had been her home for months. They were leading her through the halls of the Red Keep, dragging her. She was fighting, afraid for the babe in her womb. Then she was pinned to the floor in the throne room, Cersei’s maniacal smile gleaming down at her. Brienne’s mind filled in the blanks as if the act had actually been completed. She felt the blade tearing through her skin, digging to rob her of the child she carried. Her scream left her mouth as she begged for mercy in her dream.

Jaime jumped, immediately on guard to protect Brienne and the baby. As awareness came to him. He saw the sheer panic on Brienne’s face, as she bolted upright and gasped for the breath she been holding. Realization slowly returned that she had been rescued, had given birth to her healthy son, and that they were now safe with Jaime to protect them. Brienne understood that the specters she had feared moments before had disappeared when her eyes opened. Her babe was sleeping securely in her arms. She gathered Galladon close to her and held him tight. Jaime shifted himself around into Brienne’s view, and gently took her face in his hand.

“It’s alright. You're safe.” Jaime reassured her, his golden handed arm still around them. “You’re both safe.” He comforted her. She looked at him, her eyes still wide with fear. “You’ve had a nightmare.” He told her. He now knew what had been the cause of her unquiet sleep through the entire day. His heart grew pained, and he longed to take away her trauma.

Tears began to fall from Brienne’s terrified eyes. “They were cutting.” She sobbed. “They were cutting him from me.” She shook her head trying to rid herself of the image. Then she looked mournfully at Jaime. “They were killing him.” She cried, shaking in his arms. Her face begging him to save them once more.

Jaime ran his fingers through Brienne’s hair to smooth it away from her face. He held his face against hers trying to calm her. Taking her elbow, Jaime raised their son to face them. “Look.” He bid her. She lowered her gaze to Galladon’s tiny face. “He is well. He is alive, and safe.” Jaime smiled. “You are both safe.” He swore. Brienne began to relax as relief swept over her.

“What would we have done, if you had not been there?” Her grateful eyes swept over Jaime. “If you had not...” She trailed off, unwilling to revisit her doubt when she first saw him again. He understood.

Jaime drew even closer to her. “Remember what I swore to you in the clearing, before we found this place?” He begged Brienne. “My oath to you?” He implored her. Brienne’s face softened remembering his words, and knowing he would never take them lightly, not to her.

“I will never let anyone hurt either of you, ever again.” He vowed once more, as Brienne leaned against him.

Before she could affirm her renewed belief in him, Galladon let out a sharp wail, as if sensing his mother’s agitation. Brienne moved to quickly sooth her son, and he calmed with only a kiss to his tiny head. Jaime smiled proudly at them both. His happiness was to be short lived, as the loud call of an unknown voice split the silence from outside their hiding place.

“It came from over here.” A deep stern speaker called.

“It was just an animal.” Another man, seemingly farther in distance answered in an annoyed tone.

Jaime and Brienne froze, unable even to breathe, eyes holding the other’s in a fearful yet determined realization. Someone had heard the cry of their babe. Brienne cradled Galladon to her neck, trying to shield him from the threat. Jaime reached for Widow’s Wail, rising to stand protectively over Brienne and their child. Turning toward the door of the little shack, he positioned himself, ready to attack. His ire rising, he waiting, knowing that the blood which rushed through his veins and pounded in his ears would make him unstoppable.

“We’ve been ordered to check everything.” The first man reminded his companion.

It was clear these men were members of Cersei’s army and they were searching for Brienne and Jaime. Again sensing his mother’s distraction, Galladon began to softly whine in her arms. Drawing in a sharp breath, she rocked the babe in an attempt to calm him, fearful that he would be heard again. Brienne quickly offered the babe her breast to quiet him, relieved when he took to her and suckled greedily.

“That place looks like it’ll collapse if you set one foot in it.” The distant man called. The soldiers had noticed the abandoned cottage that had provided the fugitives shelter. Jaime glanced apprehensively at the hearth, fearing the smoke rising from their fire would signal their hiding. He exhaled with relief when he realized the fired had burned itself out while they were sleeping. In his haste to comfort Brienne after her nightmare, Jaime had not noticed. Again, he listened keenly as the voices drew closer.

The guard that had stood at a distance reached the other. By the volume of his voice as he presented his argument, Jaime guessed he was no more than five or six strides from the entrance to their refuge. “There isn’t even a horse tied up. Lannister took a horse. There’s no sign of one.” He countered.

“But they could have been here.” The first man replied.

“And are long gone by now.” The other whined. “What does it matter if they were here? That doesn’t tell us where they’re going.” He complained.

“Just let’s check inside.” The deeper voiced man continued. Jaime tensed and took a silent step closer to the door, raising his sword.

“What do you expect to find?” The second guard appealed again. “A hand written note telling us where they have gone?” He mocked. “Come on. It’s getting dark, and there’s an inn a few hours west on the main road. I could sure use a stein of ale.” He grinned and tapped his friend on the arm. “And maybe a couple of fine serving wenches on our knees?” He grinned.

Luckily, that was enough to turn the mind of the supposedly duty oriented guard to thoughts of the evening. “It does seem there would be a horse.” He noted. “Probably no one as fine as Ser Jaime Lannister would think of spending a night in that hovel. Even with a whore he knocked up.” Jaime wanted to rush from the cottage and gut both the guards for that remark. He did not see Brienne wince at their reference to her.

“Yes.” The man’s compatriot agreed. “Now you are making sense.” The sound of the guard slapping his friend on the back echoed through the little clearing in front of the shack.

“Fine, let’s go. We’ll double back and check this place out tomorrow when it’s light.” He laughed as the sound of their diminishing voices told Jaime and Brienne they were leaving. Still, Jaime took no chances. He stalked to the doorway and crouched at the side of the frame. Carefully, he peeked around the rotting wood to ensure all was clear.

At last, confident that they were once more alone, Jaime returned to Brienne. He began to gather up the rags that lay about for the care of their babe and stuffed them into one of the saddlebags. “We have to leave.” He declared urgently. “There may be more of them.” He said, barely looking at Brienne. When she did not answer, he lifted his eyes to see her stricken expression.

“Did you hear what they called me?” Brienne asked dryly, blinking back the tears forming in her eyes. “Is that what I am now?” She questioned, unable to look at Jaime. “The Kingslayer’s whore?” Brienne choked on the name.

Jaime knelt on the ground in front of her, the breath taken from his lungs by the hurt on her face. “Brienne.” He spoke understandingly. He knew what it meant to suffer a tarnished reputation, and would not allow her to think of herself in those terms. “You are no whore.” He encouraged, taking her hand in his. “You are the finest person I have ever known. More honorable, just, and virtuous than any knight who ever drew a sword.” Brienne swallowed the lump in her throat, and listened to his impassioned tribute.

“You are the woman I love, and this is my son.” Jaime smiled sweetly down at Galladon, still nursing from Brienne. “I claim him and you, as my own.” He asserted proudly. “Any indictments that could be made against your character, are my fault and mine alone. Had I been true to my heart, and to you, there would be no ignorant slanders made against you by fools.” He lamented. “It is a situation which I plan to rectify as soon as we are safe.” He swore to her. “If you will allow me.” Jaime kissed her hand, and hoped she would at least consider his suggestion.

The tears that now trailed down Brienne’s cheeks were caused by happiness. She felt her heart opening to Jaime even more, and found herself falling deeper in love with him. Her voice taken by emotion, she returned his adoration and nodded. To seal his pledge, Jaime leaned in and kissed Brienne long and tenderly. When they parted, Brienne cared little for her reputation, and very much for him.

Reluctantly pulling from their embrace, Jaime felt a renewed sense of urgency to get Brienne and their son to safety. “Do you think you can sit the horse, and hold him?” Jaime asked her.

“We’ll be fine.” Brienne assured him. The baby had finished nursing, and she replaced her garment around her before attempting to raise herself from the floor. She winced as the soreness she had endured since Galladon’s birth seemed to grow worse. Jaime reached to steady her. “It’s alright.” Brienne said bravely. “I can stand.” The determined look in her eye told him she would accept nothing less than the freedom to try. He nodded, and braced her as he helped her rise to her feet, her arms filled with her infant. It was obvious she was still extremely uncomfortable, and her legs were shaky, but she rewarded him a brave smile.

Jaime led Brienne to the little backless chair in the middle of the floor upon which he had set her the previous evening when she had labored with their child. Settling her and ensuring she wanted for nothing, he finished gathering their supplies, and erasing all signs that they had ever been there. Soon they were ready to depart. With the fur saddle blanket thrown over his shoulder, and both packs draped over his right arm, Jaime gathered Brienne close to him, and aided her while she walked slowly and unsteadily at his side, their babe bundled and secure in her embrace. He hated that he could not give her the time she needed to rest and recover fully, but he refused to risk their safety, or chance their capture. He knew she understood. Slowly they crept into the dark woods where he had stashed the horse.

Brienne tried valiantly to keep up as they traveled further into the deep forest. She forced her face to show resolved bravery for Jaime, but her body fought against her every step. Holding her breath against the pain she felt, she focused on keeping Galladon securely nestled within her grasp as they left the trail and descended a shallow rocky bluff that led to the brook from which Jaime had drawn water earlier that day. Her strength finally failing her, Brienne stumbled when they reached the bottom, and it if had not been for Jaime’s supportive arm around her, she would fallen into the stream. In one fluid motion, Jamie swung her into his arms already laden with their gear. Brienne laid her weary head upon his shoulder, and sheltered their babe against him. Jaime nearly ran the rest of the way to the horse, holding them both.

Upon reaching their mount, Jaime sat Brienne carefully next to a tree while he saddled and readied the animal. When all was was prepared for their departure, Jaime returned to Brienne and helped her stand once more. He walked her slowly and carefully to the horse, and paused before lifting her onto the saddle. “I am so sorry that you have been forced to endure this.” He regretted, wrapping his arms around her.

“I can bare anything, as long as we are together.” She finally admitted, tears playing behind her eyelids. She clung to him now not from weakness, but from desire. She loved him, she needed him, and she was so glad he was there. She faced into his embrace, as if they were one being. They tasted each other’s lips in a slow strong kiss that avowed all they could not say, all they had not the time not to speak.

“I love you.” Brienne affirmed, allowing herself to imagine a life with him.

Jaime gave her an adoring smile, reveling in the words she spoke. His heart wanted to sing at her revelation. At last, she had affirmed her feelings for him, and they mirrored his own for her. Then, his face turned serious. “I love you.” He asserted to her. “I swear to you. I will never leave you, again. I will crawl through the Seven Hells themselves before I let anyone touch you, or hurt you ever again.” His loving gaze traveled to their son sleeping in her arms as he stroked the boy’s head softly. “Either of you.” He closed his eyes against her temple and allowed himself to rejoice in her. Brienne felt the same strong devotion for him giving her hope. She believed him with all of her heart.

Jaime gently raised her again into his grasp and sat her and their child onto the waiting horse. Then he raised himself in the stirrups and perched vigilantly behind them. Taking the reigns, he drew Brienne against him and settled his arms around her. Then he nudged the horse’s side and set him once more in motion toward the safety in which he was determined to see Brienne and their baby secure.  
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They traveled through the night, and by Jaime’s figuring if they could maintain the pace at which they rode, another day should see them near to Stoney Sept. The old walled town had a reputation for being a nest of traitors. There would probably be few there loyal to The Queen. He hoped, that if their luck held, he might be able to secure discreet lodging to allow Brienne to regain her strength. He suspected that perhaps the harlots in one of the brothels there might take pity on a new mother and her babe, and let them a room. He hoped Brienne would not realize the true nature of their accommodations, once she was well. If he could keep the horse steady and not encounter any of Cersei’s patrols, Jaime was certain the tides would turn for them in the town. His heart hopeful, he settled Brienne close to him in the saddle while she attended their son, and trudged onward.

They had barely seen the light of day when the rains began. The deluge broke from the clouds at dawn. It was a cold steady, driving torrent that soaked them through to the bone within a matter in minutes, and turned the back roads into a slippery river of mud. Jaime did the best he could to keep Brienne and Galladon dry, but it was to no avail. Brienne nestled the baby next to her skin inside her sheath, trying to keep him warm. Still he fussed for most of their journey, as his mother’s efforts could not protect him completely from the cold that chilled all of them.

Jaime was frantic to find them shelter. He felt Brienne shiver in his arms, and understood that he could ask her to ride no further, at least not in the wet weather. He maneuvered the exhausted horse around a rocky outcropping, and saw a stand of evergreen trees ahead. It appeared dense, and Jaime thought the branches would be interwoven enough to provide at least a space out of the wind. He could feel Brienne weakening by the moment. She did her best to show Jaime a brave facade, but she had gone silent hours ago, and he could feel her breathing was strained. He prayed to the Gods that this exposure would not take what was left of her strength.

Brienne was already leaning low against the wall of Jaime’s chest as he ducked the horse into the heavy bramble of bows and limbs. Thankfully, he had been correct. While still damp and cold, the trees at least got Brienne and the baby out of the wind and the torrent. Jaime swung himself down from their mount, and pulled Brienne into his arms. She fell weakly toward him, little Galladon still pressed against her chest. The old trees were of a height that a grown man could stand beneath the lowest branches without needing to bend, and Jaime found it surprisingly easy to move about within their temporary lodging. He laid Brienne and Galladon down on a thick carpet of soggy needles, and quickly fetched the fur pad from beneath the horse’s saddle. It was wet, but it would keep out what breeze permeated their makeshift shelter.

Jaime kneeled guardedly next to them, alert for any sign of trouble. Brienne focused herself nursing Galladon. Out of the wind, and pouring rain, the babe had finally settled and was feeding hungrily as he rested in his mother’s embrace. Finally, satisfied that they were safe, at least for the moment, Jaime sat beside them and wrapped them in his arms, attempting to warm them with his own body.

Jaime kissed Brienne’s temple and spoke softly to her as he watched their child nuzzle against her. “Once you are warmed and comforted, I will go hunt something for you to eat.” He suggested.

Brienne’s breathing quickened and she choked on a sob. Turning to Jaime, her eyes begged him not to go. “No.” She countered. “I am fine, and I have plenty to feed our child.” She assured him. “Don’t leave us. We need you.” She implored him, no longer able to control the tears which now seeped down her frigid cheeks. “Please don’t go.” She paused reliving the next words she spoke with desperation. “Please stay.” Brienne cried into his shoulder.

Jaime understood. He knew from where the pain in Brienne’s plea came. Once again, he saw her tormented eyes speaking those same words on that cold night in Winterfell’s courtyard, as she beseeched him not to abandon her. But he did leave. He had ridden away. He felt the hole in his chest threaten to tear open and leave him lost as he remembered the long sorrowful ride back to Kings Landing, his only companion the memory of how he had hurt the woman he loved. He had found her again. He would not give her a moment’s cause to think he would leave her. Jaime drew Brienne’s face to his and rested there, trying to calm her mournful distress.

“Very well, My love.” Jaime told her. “I shall not go.” He assured her. “Please calm yourself, and rest.” Jaime pleaded. “I will not leave you.” He promised.

Brienne relaxed in his arms, and settled back to him. She nodded, and gave him a grateful smile. Lacking the strength to speak anymore, she eased into Jaime’s embrace and could fight her weariness no longer. Finally, sleep found Brienne’s exhausted body and mind. Jaime sat under the tree branches, keeping watch in the hiding place he had found for them. Bolstering Brienne’s grasp on their son, he held the woman he loved and the child they had made. Never one to resign himself to tears easily, he buried his face in Brienne’s neck and wept openly. This time, his emotions were caused not by the bitterness he felt at the ordeal through which Brienne had been forced to live. His sobs were not filled with hatred for Cersei, who had kept them both hostage. He cried not because of the fear he still held for their safety, or the long journey which still had ahead of them. The tears that trailed down Jaime’s face were those of joy. As he held Brienne and Galladon, his heart burst with a selflessness he had never known before. His soul soared with elation from the love he felt for them. Here, somewhere in the wilderness west of Kings Landing, hiding under a rain soaked tree, terrified of what their path may bring, Jaime held his new family in his arms and smiled through his tears. He had never known such happiness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Brienne weak and sick from spending months in captivity and giving birth to their son, Jaime must accept the only help for her that he can find. Will it destroy all their hopes, or bring them closer to safety?

Evening was giving way to darkness when Brienne awoke, shocked from her sleep by another nightmare. Her loud gasp brought Jaime quickly to her side. He had been preparing their horse for leaving. After hearing patrols pass all too near their precarious sanctuary throughout the entire afternoon, he was anxious to be on their way. As he knelt, concerned, beside Brienne he noticed how pale she had become, and how deeply set in dark circles her eyes had grown. He feared that she was not well.

“I’m here. I’m here.” He reassured her, resting his hands on her arms to calm her. She tried to smile through her weakness, but the terror of her nightmare still marked her features.

Brienne calmed at his touch. “My dreams will not let me rest.” She admitted as she checked on their son whom she found wide awake. Her child’s precious face lulled her back to serenity, although her mind could not forget the images that plagued her.

“That’s all they are.” Jaime reminded her. “Just your imagination playing tricks on you.” He tried to ease her.

Brienne grew silent at his description. “But they were...real.” She looked at him with pain and fear in her eyes at the memories she recalled.

Jaime leaned his head against hers. “I know.” He said softly. “I am so desperately sorry.” He apologized gravely not only for his inadequate attempt to alleviate her fear, but also for the horrors she had endured that had put the dread in her heart. She smiled sweetly at him, and nodded.

“Someday soon this will be behind us.” Jaime vowed to her. “It will all be but a bad dream.” He kissed Brienne’s forehead tenderly, as she held him like a lifeline. She believed him, and looked forward to that day.

“The rain has stopped. We must go.” Jaime whispered to Brienne, taking their son gently from her arms, and holding the babe tightly to him. He did not want to mention to her the nearness of Cersei’s soldiers. “Is there anything you need, before we depart?” He questioned, eager to assist her.

Brienne’s face grew bashful. She lowered her head, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “If you could give me a moment.” She smiled. “I need to...” She stammered, unsure why she was suddenly so embarrassed.

Jaime smiled, understanding her uneasiness. He helped her stand, and then wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Brienne.” He grinned playfully. “I delivered you of our babe.” He nestled his face against Galladon’s forehead, and then looked back at her, a sly smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I have seen parts of you, not viewed by living eyes since your own mother wrapped you in a swaddling.” He liked the way she chuckled at his teasing. “If you need to relieve yourself, just say so.” He smiled, enjoying their intimacy.

Brienne grinned wickedly at him. “Alright.” She rolled her eyes. “I need to relieve myself.” She informed him, hiding her smile.

“There, now.” Jaime returned her laughter. “That’s not so bad.” He brushed his lips against her temple. “Do you need help?” He offered, hoping she would.

“I’ll manage.” Brienne turned weakly, and using the rough trunk to brace her unsteady legs, made her way around the tree. She leaned against it and raised her skirt, trying to finish the job as quickly and quietly as possible.

When she returned to Jaime a few moments later, Brienne regarded him watching her with the most sublime expression on his face. She caught her breath at the site of him with their child in his arms. She had never seen anything more delightful in her life. It made her feel whole, as if her healing had begun. She stared at him for a while longer, trying to burn that image into her brain. She felt she could will it to take the place of her nightmares.

As Brienne stood using the tree to hold her up, she suddenly began to feel the world spin. She was unsure if it was the relief at the site of Jaime with Galladon, or the fatigue that still ravaged her body. The world around her grew dark, and she was falling. Before all faded from view, before her body came to rest on the ground, she felt Jaime’s strong arm around her waist supporting her.

Jaime studied Brienne with a worried frown. Holding her while she slept during the earlier hours, he had realized how emancipated she had become. The oversized, ruddy sack that was her prison garment had hidden much of her figure from him. Her belly had been swollen with their child, and had made her body seem more filled out. With his arms wrapped around her, however, Jaime could feel the way Brienne’s bones now protruded through her flesh. It was clear, that Cersei had only provided Brienne with just enough nourishment to stay alive during her captivity. She was weakened from near starvation. He was amazed that their child had been born thriving and healthy.

“Something is wrong.” He turned her to face him, his concern for her overpowering his desire to keep traveling.

Brienne slowly came to herself, and tried her best to be brave. “I’m sure it’s just the lingering effects of giving birth.” She told him, although she was anything but certain about her self diagnosis.

“I don’t want to take any chances.” Jaime refused to be cavalier about her health. “If you need, we will remain here.” He would simply have to double his efforts at guarding them if Brienne required more time.

Brienne shook her head. “No.” She wanted to be journeying on, even if she did not feel at all confident in her own stamina. “You are right. We should continue our progress.” She would try the best she could.

“Come.” Jaime beckoned, relieved for the moment. “Let us leave this place.” He said, leading Brienne toward the horse. “We will be safe at Casterly Rock before you know it.” He tried to encourage her, and himself.

Jaime carefully settled Galladon back into Brienne’s arms and swung them both atop the horse. The baby cooed and wriggled gleefully at his mother’s touch. Jaime could see by her shaking hands that something was indeed wrong. He knew she was trying to hide it from him. His sense of urgency grew. Quickly seating himself behind her, he used his arm to steady her grip on their child while guiding the horse beneath the pine bows and out onto the trail with his good hand. Brienne leaned sluggishly against him, her strength waning by the second. Jaime checked her constantly as they made their way further into the night.  
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They had not traveled far before it was clear to Jaime, that Brienne’s health was in jeopardy. Her eyes were distant, and every breath seemed a struggle. He feared he was feeling her slipping away from him. His guilt consumed him at the thought. She had given birth only a day before. He should never have put her on a horse, traveling rough ground, in the cold and rain. He would have to risk discovery to find a place she could rest for longer than a few hours, until her health returned.

The miles stretched on, endless and empty, as Jaime searched desperately for anyplace he could seek shelter for Brienne. All the while, she weakened in his arms. Her body leaned against the sturdy plate of his armor, and seemed to go limp at times. She even began to struggle to hold onto their child. When he had almost given up hope, a dim light in the distance found Jaime’s notice. He prayed it would lead them to friendly allies. Urgently, he steered their mount in the direction of the beacon.

Nearing the guiding light toward which he had rode, Jaime found that it was the glimmer of a hearthfire through the window of a small farmhouse that had cast the glow. Perhaps the barn could provide the warmth and refuge he wished for Brienne and their babe. Cautiously, he walked the horse to the edge of the gate near the entrance of the little house. He was careful to approach calmly, so as not to appear a threat. Jaime dismounted, slowly drawing his sword and laying it across the saddle. He removed his armor, and hid it behind the fence. Finally, he pulled the golden hand from his arm, and stowed it in a saddle bag, hoping to seem a simple traveler. One more time, Jaime checked Brienne before leaving her side. He rued needing to part from her for even mere seconds.

“Will you be alright while I bid our appeal to the master of the house?” He asked as she watched him weakly. Her eyes glazed, she nodded, holding the baby close to her. She was fighting with all her might to remain alert.

Watchful for any sign of danger, Jaime made his way to the door, and knocked soundly upon the old oak panel. He waited patiently, and hoped the occupants within would be amenable to his request. He looked back at Brienne who slumped in the saddle, fatigue already taking hold. Jaime prayed she would need to ride no further this night.

Finally the door opened just a slight crack and the drawn wrinkled face of the elderly farmer appeared on the other side. “Yes?” The old man questioned suspiciously. “What can I do for you?”

“Good evening, Master.” Jaime addressed him respectfully, hoping a friendly smile tinged with the right amount of worry would aid his cause. There was no need for him to pretend at the concern that gripped his heart. “My wife and I have journeyed a great distance today, through the rain.” He informed the farmer, stepping back and motioning toward Brienne as she held Galladon atop the horse. His heart thrilled a bit at describing Brienne in such terms. He hoped it would not be long before his words rang true. “She and our babe, our son, are chilled to the bone and exhausted.” He continued. The farmer eyed him wearily. “I was hoping I might beg the use of your barn to shelter them for the night?” He inquired, praying the man would take pity upon a mother and her child.

Suddenly the door swung open. A short, thin woman as old as the farmer and obviously his wife peered into the darkness, trying for a better view of Brienne and the baby. “Riding all day in the rain?” She scowled judgmentally at Jaime.

“Yes, Mum.” He answered. His shame needed no feigning. “It could not be helped.” He lowered his head forlornly.

“Of course you may have the use of our barn. We have an empty stall filled with soft hay. You may bed down there for the night. It should keep them plenty warm.” The woman usurped her husband’s authority. “I’ll not see a weary mother and her babe turned out to the elements.” She glared, and nodded toward the old man as if to warn him not to put up argument. “Your horse may eat his fill as well.” She added, nudging her husband in the arm.

“Aye.” The old man squinted, hoping his wife’s trust was not misplaced. “But no fires.” He demanded.

“Of course not.” Jaime brightened. “Thank you, Master. Thank you, Mum.” He smiled gratefully, backing away and bowing before they could change their minds.

Feeling some measure of relief Jaime returned to Brienne, retrieved his armor, and led the horse into the barn. He closed and barred the door behind him. Then, he slid Brienne from the saddle and rested her against his chest, their son held lovingly close to her. The dim light within the structure made finding his way difficult and he stepped gingerly so as not to stumble. The stall of which the old woman had spoken was along the far side of the barn, and thankfully well out of the breezes. It was filled with plenty of insulating straw. It would shelter Brienne and the baby nicely. The low night noises of the other animals gave a comforting peace to the haven they had found. He gave a prayer of thanks to the Gods, as he nestled Brienne into the bedding and went about unfastening the horse’s saddle. The animal had already begun to munch on a bale of hay, and shook himself fiercely with relief as Jaime removed the wet packs, saddle, and blanket from its back. Jaime knew he had to care well for their steed, or he would not last the journey.

Once Jaime had finished, there came a rapping on the door he had barred only moments before. Warily, he strode to the entrance, wishing he had picked up his sword. He guardedly unbolted the door and opened it only enough to peer out into the darkness. Jaime relaxed a bit when he saw it was the same elderly woman he had spoken to at the house. She was carrying a crockery bowl in each hand. From both, clouds of steam swirled around the wooden handles of the spoons that leaned against their rims. Jaime’s mouth watered as the heavenly aroma of stew rose on the air.

The old woman cleared her throat and lifted the food toward Jaime. “For you and your wife.” She offered. “You both look like you could use a good meal.” She smiled motherly at him. “It appeared the babe was still in arms, of an age to still be nursing from his mother?” She asked innocently.

“Yes.” Jaime nodded. “Our babe is yet an infant.” He confirmed.

“Then please take this to his mother.” The lady of the house insisted. “She will need to keep up her strength.” She nudged the bowls close.

Jaime reached out and took the offering gratefully, balancing both with his left arm. He was almost uncertain how to accept a kindness. His upbringing and family had afforded him few opportunities for practice. “Thank you, Mum.” His expression softened with thanks.

“Mary.” The woman smiled.

“Thank you, Mary.” He returned, still not ready to reveal his name. She did not press, but simply nodded, turned, and headed back to the house.

Using his elbow, Jaime returned the door latch to its place. He quickly strode back to the protected stall where he found Brienne leaning against a mound of straw, feeding their son. Relaxing beside her on the floor, he set the bowls down and watched her lovingly until she finished. Once the boy had filled his belly, and fallen asleep, Brienne laid him in the warm bedding at her side and took the dinner Jaime handed to her. The stew was hot and flavorful and brought her back to herself a bit.

“How kind of her.” Brienne noted as she ate.

“Yes.” Jaime agreed. “It seems not everyone in the world is a monster.” He pondered that idea for a moment, thinking how infrequently he had met anyone with purely benevolent motives.

“I hope not.” Brienne whispered, taking another bite.

Jaime’s heart pained, knowing she was lost in another brutal memory. “You will never have to worry about that again.” He promised. She smiled, and sighed contentedly, comforted for now.

When they had finished, Jaime laid Brienne back into the straw, and burrowed their sleeping babe next to her. He reclined along her other side and brought his body around her to provide still greater warmth, resting his arm over her protectively. To his joy, she nestled closer to him. Turning onto her side away from him, Brienne leaned back into the sturdy supportive cushion he provided. She cradled Galladon to her, checking her infant as he slumbered. Jaime’s head rested near hers. He kissed her hair and inhaled her intoxicating scent deeply. The sound of his breathing soon lulled Brienne into a heavy sleep. Jaime had meant to stay awake, to watch over his little family and ponder the possibilities that might lay open to them along their path to Casterly Rock. However, the reassuring feel of Brienne and their babe in his arms, the soothing warmth of the sturdy barn, and the joy in his heart soon gave way as his own exhaustion took hold of him. He drifted off to sleep pleasantly dreaming of the life with them for which he yearned.  
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Jaime awoke the next morning to the sound of his son’s needful cry. He expected to rise to find Brienne soothing their child. Instead, when he opened his eyes to the daylight, she laid unmoving beside him. He gladly thought to himself that she had certainly slept well, and reached across her to take Galladon into his arms. That was when he noticed that even the pressure of his body against hers as he picked up their babe had not rousted her. Each time she had slept over the past days, she had startled from her slumber with a nightmare. Now, Brienne was solid in her sleep, not even rallied by the sound of her own child wailing next to her.

“Brienne!” Jaime raised his voice, alarmed. She did not stir. “Brienne!” He cried out again, leaning closer to her, his worry growing. Still, there was no movement from her.

Jaime stroked Brienne’s hair, gently, checking her. He pulled his hand back in shock, not wanting to face what he had discovered. She was burning with fever. His eyes wide with dread, again he called out her name. He was unable to wake her. It was as he had feared. Their journey had indeed been far too difficult for her to endure in her weakened state. Clutching their child to him, unable to control his panic, Jaime rose and sprinted to find help for Brienne.

He reached the farmhouse after what seemed like an eternity, all the while shielding Galladon in his arms as if the boy were his last treasure in the world. Jaime pounded frantically on the door, feeling Brienne slipping away with each passing moment. He prayed the old couple would help her. Mary threw the door open, her face aghast with confusion.

“My goodness. What be the trouble?” Mary questioned, shocked at the half crazed man at her door, cradling his tiny infant in his arms.

Jaime could barely form a coherent sentence as his mind reeled for understanding. “My...My wife.” He stammered, his face a mask of fright. His eyes wide with terror. “My wife has been taken ill.” He struggled to catch his breath through the terror overwhelming him. “She is fevered, and I cannot wake her.” He stared at Mary earnestly, his eyes brimming with frightened tears. “Please.” He begged. “Please help me.” Shaking in his distraught plea, the babe still whimpering in his arms, Jaime’s heart threatened to burst through his chest.

Mary urgently grabbed a shawl from its hook near the door and nodded her assistance to Jaime. He backed away to allow her exit from the house. He wanted to rush ahead, but somehow held his gate in check to match her elderly pace. He prayed Brienne would be awake when they reached her. He could not bare to think that she would not be.

Mary entered the barn first and raced to Brienne as best she could. “I found her like this when I awoke.” Jaime told the old woman frantically as they finally reached the stall. His heart fell when he realized that Brienne was still unconscious. The old woman bent stiffly to examine Brienne. She touched her forehead and listened to her breathing. Taking her wrist, Mary held it gently, feeling her pulse. As she arose, her aching bones complaining with the effort, the caring old soul turned on Jaime.

“That babe in your arms could not be more than two days old.” She scolded, finally getting a good look at the tiny bundle who had been hidden by darkness the previous night. “This poor woman is in no condition to be traveling the roads.” Her face grew even more grim as understanding dawned upon her. “No doubt she birthed this child by the side of one of those highways.” Her anger flared. “You’re lucky she is even alive.” Mary’s ire abated as she noticed the guilt that edged Jaime’s expression. She realized she did not need to point out the obvious to him, and that his self loathing was unbearable.

“It could not be helped.” Jaime lowered his head dejectedly. “We had to keep moving.” He admitted pitifully.

“You are running from someone.” Mary affirmed, lowering her voice.

Jaime was slow to respond, finally nodding reluctantly. He did not know why, but he trusted this stranger. “Yes. We are.” He confirmed, his voice cracking. “The one who pursues us will kill her if we are discovered.” He looked helplessly at Brienne as if her execution had already been set. Then his gaze traveled to Galladon, now calm in his arms. “That evil demon will kill them both.” He lamented.

“She is not your wife is she?” Mary questioned, her tone devoid of the judgement it echoed only a few moments before.

Jaime held Brienne in his stare, shaking his head. “No, she is not.” He admitted. “But she is the woman I love, and this is our child.” His face was so filled with adoration as he beheld Brienne, that Mary felt her heart break for them.

She lowered her eyes to allow Jaime some semblance of privacy as he lost himself in grief over Brienne’s illness. Her eyes fell upon the deep gouges that marked the new mother’s ankles as she lay in the straw, and realized that she had been through a horrible ordeal. “She has been held prisoner.” Mary stated.

Jaime’s voice cracked as he explained. “Yes. In a dank, dark cell, in a dungeon.” He voiced in anguish. “The entire time she carried my child.” He lamented. “I did not even know about him.” Jaime looked forlornly down at Galladon in his arms. The child so unaware of the battle his mother was fighting. The rush of Jaime’s tears finally broke through his attempts to remain brave. “I had no idea she was there. I knew nothing of where she was. I thought she was safe, and far from there.” He sobbed.

Turning her head, unable to bare the images that formed in her mind, Mary saw Jaime’s golden armor propped against the wall. She lifted her head to him, suddenly placing his identity. “I know who you are.” She whispered. Jaime caught his breath as she continued. “You are Ser Jaime Lannister.” She smiled warmly at him.

“Don’t you mean the Kingslayer?” He corrected spitefully.

Mary shook her head. “You will never be referred to by that name in this house, Ser.” She lifted her eyes proudly. “Our daughter is the wife of a merchant in Kings Landing. She had just married and begun her life in that city a few months before King Aerys began his siege. When you...” She paused, not wanting to give voice to a bad memory. “When you stopped him, you saved my daughter’s life.” She smiled. “I do not understand why people disdain you for what you did. It was an honorable act. You saved thousands. You will find nothing but respect here, Ser Jaime.” She assured him.

No one had ever before praised him for killing The King. He knew not how he should react. “How did you recognize me?” He asked in wonder.

Mary grinned bashfully and nodded to his missing hand. Jaime’s face registered his understanding. “It is from the Queen you hide?” Mary said rhetorically. “She is the one who held your love captive.” Jaime’s silence told Mary that she was right. “The Queen did this?” She questioned in disgust. “I thought it was the Queen you loved.” Mary states innocently. Jaime wondered for a moment that he and Cersei seemed to be the only ones in the kingdom who thought their unnatural relationship a secret. He was thankful that was over.

“Not anymore.” He announced with resolve, gazing adoringly at Brienne.

Mary looked compassionately at Jaime. “That is why she kept this woman from you.” Jaime could only nod his sad response. He wanted no pity for himself. His purpose now was to see Brienne made well, and to spend the rest of his life with her. He straightened to full posture, and looked at the woman he loved, so ill and in danger. Mary followed his eyes.

“This is Brienne of Tarth.” He announced proudly. “The bravest and strongest woman in all of Westeros.” He praised.

“You are both Heroes of the Battle with the Dead at Winterfell.” Mary stated in awe, raising her chin even higher. “Our home is yours for as long as you require it.” She declared.

Jaime’s eyes grew troubled once more. “I pray it will not be long.” He spoke painfully as he regarded Brienne.

“Give me the child, and bring her into the house.” Mary ordered. Jaime complied without question, handing Galladon to his kind new friend. He gathered Brienne carefully in his arms. They walked quickly to the house, where Jaime prayed Mary could help her.

Inside, Mary led Jaime to a bed in a small rear room. She turned down the linens with one hand, as she supported Galladon in her other arm. Then she waved for Jaime to lay Brienne in the sheets. He dutifully did as instructed and covered her gently, while Mary’s husband suddenly entered, a look of bewilderment on his face. Mary rushed to his side, and whispered something into his ear. The old man brightened, and regarded Jaime with reverence. He assumed their host now knew their identities as well. The old man drew close, almost apprehensive.

“This is my husband, Aiken.” Mary smiled.

“We are at your service, Ser.” Aiken echoed his wife’s sentiment.

“Thank you.” Jaime said gratefully, he offered his hand in greeting to his elder. Aiken took it gladly.

Mary slipped beside them and gently deposited Galladon onto the mattress beside Brienne. “They both need to sense each other.” She told Jaime. She then eyed her husband, who understood it was time for him to see to his chores for the day. Aiken bowed his head and left the room dutifully. Mary hastily went about collecting such items as she would need to care for Brienne.

Jaime knelt beside the bed and took Brienne’s hand in his. He pressed her finger to his lips, and whispered a plea for her to open her eyes. He refused to allow himself to think there was a chance he would lose her. He laid their babe into her arms, hoping the feeling of the child would awaken her. “We need you.” He voiced painfully into her ear.

Behind him Mary spoke softly, regretting her intrusion. “If I may, Ser Jaime.” She stepped beside him and laid a cool wet cloth over Brienne’s forehead, setting a bowl of cold water on a table beside the bed. Jaime did not take his eyes from Brienne.

“The babe will need to nurse.” She informed him.

“Will that not make him ill as well?” Jaime questioned with concern.

Mary shook her head. “On the contrary. It will make him stronger.” She soothed Jaime’s fears. “He needs his mother’s milk.” She said with certainty. “I can hold him to her breast.” She offered. “Unless you would prefer to help them.” Mary suggested bashfully.

Jaime nodded. “Thank you. I will do it.” He accepted, wanting to be the one to keep their bond strong.

He slid his hand beneath Brienne’s shoulders and lifted her to sit as he took his place behind her. Her head fell upon his neck. He wrapped his arm around her to hold Galladon. Jaime softly opened the top of Brienne’s sheath and exposed her breast to their son. The baby took to her and suckled contentedly. Jaime was at least relieved he could give them that. He held them tenderly in his arms and cared not if Mary saw, as once again, tears streamed from his eyes. His heart broke for Brienne and their son. He blamed himself for their suffering, and wished they could have celebrated the first days of their child’s life in peace and comfort. He knew he deserved no such consideration, but they did.

Mary saw Jaime’s distress from across the room while preparing a poltice of herbs to break Brienne’s fever, and her own heart ached for them. She was determined to see this woman she did not know through her sickness, and delivered back into the arms of those who loved her. She swore to herself that she would not rest until the fever was gone.

After some time, Jaime’s whisper broke the heavy silence in the room. “How is it our babe was born so healthy, while his mother but clings to life?” He beseeched. Galladon had finished feeding, and Jaime laid him gently down upon Brienne’s chest, covering her modestly . “I thank the Gods for our son’s well being.” He sighed, rubbing Galladon’s back softly. Then he turned toward Mary. “But, she is nearly wasted away.” He stared in confusion at Brienne’s motionless form.

Mary brought the herbs she had prepared and laid them atop the cloth on Brienne’s forehead. Her nurturing eyes turning to Jaime. “When a woman carries a child, her body gives to the babe first.” She explained to him. “If the mother is given little to sustain her, it all goes to nourish the life growing in her womb.” Mary finished, her voice calm and compassionate.

“While she starves.” Jaime lamented painfully. His hand grasped Brienne’s tightly.

“Fear not, Ser Jaime.” Mary tried to encourage. “With rest and care, she will recover.” Jaime pleaded to the Gods that Mary was correct.

All that day, and all the next Jaime kept vigil at Brienne’s bedside. Her fever burned so that Mary removed all of the blankets from the bed, and washed her skin with a strange mixture of lemon and mint, followed by cold water when the first layer dried from Brienne’s limbs. Mary brewed a fragrant tea of herbs over a candle near the head of the bed where the aroma, she said, would heal Brienne’s body from the malady that afflicted her. The kindly old woman cared for her still bleeding womb, and outfitted her with fresh shifts when the fever caused her to sweat through them. Mary set out clean cloths and blankets with which to see to Galladon’s needs. The only time Jaime consented for the child to be removed from Brienne was when he was holding his son, or when Mary offered to bathe the boy. At all other times he laid the babe, clad only in his tiny small cloth, directly on Brienne’s skin. Mary agreed the contact would be good for both mother and child.

Jaime refused food or sleep. His mind could not find rest with Brienne so ill, and his stomach would keep down no nourishment. He never let go of her. Either clutching her hand, or holding her to nurse their son, Jaime needed Brienne to know that he was there. He hoped that somewhere in the darkness that shrouded her from him, she was aware of them both. He prayed that Brienne would soon return to them.

Jaime had not meant for his head to fall upon the sheets beside Brienne as he fought his own fatigue during the late morning of the third day of her sickness. He only wanted to rest his eyes. However, before he realized, he had drifted off into a fitful sleep. His dreams were filled with her. Brienne was calling to him, she needed him, but he could not get to her. It was as if a great cloud of darkness were after him, pressing down upon him, impeding his path to her. He felt sensations on his skin, fingers moving over his face, brushing his temple and into his hair. This time it was he who bolted awake. To his wonder, he found that it had not been some harbinger of doom that had touched him in his sleep. He awoke to find the antithesis of his fears. Jaime’s eyes opened to Brienne’s weak but loving smile cast upon him. It had been her fingers that had caressed his skin as he slept, and that still cradled his face. Her fever had broken, and she had finally returned to him. She lay on the pillow, their babe tucked softly under her chin, regarding Jaime with such love that he wanted to leap for joy. Instead, he raised himself to her face and kissed her tenderly.

“You’ve come back to us.” Jaime smiled, and he rested his face next to hers. He cradled Brienne’s head with his hand, and helped her support Galladon with his other arm.

Still frail and shaky, Brienne searched his face, wanting to take the worry from his features. She could barely speak, but managed a weak reply. “Where am I?” She asked through her still groggy haze, as awareness formed in her mind.

Jaime smiled comfortingly. “We are in the home of the farmer and his wife.” He told her, happy that she finally had a place to rest.

Before he could continue, Mary entered the tiny room, carrying fresh linens. She smiled heartily upon seeing Brienne awake. Laying the sheets and cloths on a washstand across the room, Mary hurried to check on her guest. “It appears your fever has left you.” the old woman grinned. “It is good to see you roused and on the road to health again, Ser Brienne.” Her excitement matched Jaime’s, who could barely contain his giddiness now that Brienne had been returned to him.

“You told them who we are?” Brienne grew alarmed, and tried to rise, only to be thwarted by her lack of strength. Jaime braced her, and softly settled her back down onto the bed.

“All is well.” He assured her. “I trust them.” He gave Brienne a look that told her she need not worry. “We are among friends here.” He smiled up thankfully at Mary.

“Please do not be concerned, My Lady.” Mary begged. “No one will harm you here.” Her voice was so kind, and her way so gentle that Brienne could not help but feel relieved. Surely Jaime would not be so casual with their welfare if anything was amiss.

“You need only relax, tend to your babe, and recover.” Mary continued, Brienne smiled thankfully at her, and then looked again at Jaime. His joy was contagious. Brienne took his hand and returned his glee, allowing herself to be hopeful at last.

Later that day, as Jaime sat with Brienne spooning warm broth to her lips, Aiken returned to the house from the barn where he had busied himself during their stay. In his arms he carried a small, wooden cradle. He knocked on the doorframe of Brienne’s little chamber, and waited respectfully for admittance in his own house. He bowed to the highborn couple in front of him and addressed them humbly.

“This was our daughters’ when she was a babe.” Aiken told them, a smile of memory passing his face. “I have cleaned and oiled it well.” He assured them. “I would be honored for your child to use it while you are with us.” His statement was as much of a question as he dared pose, and he hoped the new parents would be pleased.

Aiken lowered his eyes and held out the cradle for Brienne and Jaime’s inspection. It was made of the richest honey colored hickory wood, and carved intricately with the images of forest creatures. Brienne gasped with delight when she saw it. Tears came to her eyes, as she thought of her child sleeping in such a fine heirloom. A far cry from the grungy old stone and dirt floor upon which the heir to the houses of both Tarth and Lannister had begun his life. Jaime held Brienne’s hand tightly, understanding her thoughts.

“It is lovely.” Brienne beamed at the old man. “The honor would be ours. For you to allow our child to rest in your family’s cradle is a privilege for which we shall always be grateful.” Her smile was warm and trusting. “Thank you.” She could barely speak as she was overcome with emotion.

Aiken smiled, and set the cradle next to Brienne’s bedside near Jaime. Standing and reaching out his open fist, Jaime took Aiken’s grasp in his own and shook his host’s hand. An unspoken word of bonding passed between the two fathers. Jaime had once saved the life or Aiken’s child. Now, Aiken was trying to save Jaime’s son. It was a profound responsibility for them both.

“Thank you.” Jaime told him, in a voice shaking with obligation. “Your kindness is more than we could have hoped.”

“But no less than you deserve.” Aiken swore, thinking of how his own daughter might have died in Kings Landing if Jaime had not killed the Mad King. Jaime lowered his head in reverence. His time with Mary and Aiken had been the first time that anyone had ever praised him for his actions. It was a vindication, and it made him feel honorable.

Choking back her own tears, Mary stood at the foot of the bed. “I have a soft feather tick that will fit it perfectly.” She offered. With that, she and Aiken turned and left the room, Mary rubbing his back proudly. Jaime and Brienne sat together with their infant son, glorying in each other.

A little while later, Mary returned and dressed the precious cradle with the clean feather-filled tick she had laundered, and a fluffy fur to keep Galladon warm. She brought Brienne a light meal of stew and bread, and began preparing a bath for the recovering new mother to refresh herself. Once Brienne had eaten and the washtub had been filled, Mary took her leave, shutting the door behind her. She felt that Jaime would want to be the one to assist his child’s mother with her bathing.

Jaime helped Brienne from the bed to the bath while their babe slept peacefully in the fancy little cradle. He helped her to disrobe and step up into the delightfully steaming water. Brienne felt that she should be self conscious in her nakedness, but embarrassment was far from her thoughts. Jaime was already familiar with nearly every part of her body, and an easy intimacy had grown between them once more. She certainly sensed no awkwardness in him as he gently sat her down in the much deserved bath. He was overjoyed to be so close to her.

Brienne groaned with delight as her tired muscles stretched and relaxed in the heated ripples. It was a sound that set Jaime on fire. He felt his body react to the glorious sites and tones of her. He settled on the floor next to the tub, and rolled up his sleeves. He dipped his hand into the water, and brought up a warm handful pouring it over Brienne’s shoulders. Jaime watched her shiver a little at the feel of the thin rivulets as they rolled down her breast and dripped into the water. He slid his palm downward to cup that same sensitive round flesh, marveling at her form. She was not largely endowed, but her attributes were perfect. The tips of his fingers lingered over her hardened nipple, as he pressed his face needfully to her neck, his lips and tongue tasting the graceful curve that led to her collar bone. Brienne’s head fell back reflexively to rest on Jaime’s other arm which he had laid at her back along the rim of the bathing tub. She allowed a low moan to escape her throat as she exhaled slow and sultry. Her response caused him to grow harder and thicker with want of her.

“I have missed you.” Jaime whispered at Brienne’s temple. “It was only thoughts of you that filled my every waking moment.” He kissed her earlobe and nibbled at the skin behind it. “And my dreams. Oh, how I dreamed of you.” He proclaimed adoringly.

“Jaime.” Brienne answered meeting his emotional confession with equal longing. She turned to him, resting on her hip against the side of the tub, the movement bringing her lips level with his.

Losing themselves in the passion they felt for each other, their hungry tongues searched and tasted the sweetness of their long slow kiss. Clinging together, as if they were one, their fingers grasped and pulled one toward the other simultaneously. The space between them, only enough to breathe, was too great a distance.

“Gods, Brienne.” Jaime gasped. “I need you.” He begged.

Brienne mournfully pulled from Jaime’s embrace. “I cannot.” She regretted. “I bleed still.” She told him breathlessly. He nodded, willing to accept the disappointment for the sake of her health, and leave his longing until they could fully enjoy their love together.

She felt him begin to move away from her, and could not stand their parting. Eyeing him lustfully, she offered a compromise. “I cannot enjoy the full pleasure of our bodies together, but I can aid your desires in other ways.” She smiled shyly at him and kissed him again deeply.

The urgency of his need beckoned Jaime to accept her loving offer. He returned Brienne’s sensuous smile, and caressed her cheek. He kissed his way down her neck and then explored her supple breasts with his mouth. She caught her breath at the sensation. Without meaning to he sucked a few drops of milk from her nipple. He let the sweet warm stream trickle down his throat, and felt his excitement grow. He brought his mouth to hers once more, and reveled in the feel and taste of her tongue against his.

Never removing his kiss from her mouth, Jaime raised himself toward her. Loosening the waist of his britches, he lowered his woven confines, and freed his hard erect cock. He ached for the feel of Brienne around him. He reached into the water, and gently took her slick wet hand. Cradling her fingers softly in his, he guided her arm over the rim of the tub and downward to him. She grasped him with desire as he wrapped her trembling fist around his hardness.

Brienne stared deeply into Jaime’s eyes as he began to guide her hand in stroking him up and down the soft skin of his shaft. She relaxed and lost herself in the rhythmic motion. Enjoying the delight on his face, she became more comfortable with the pleasure she was enticing from him. She began to improvise, much to his delight. She tightened her grip and released him just at the right moments. She was gentle and firm, and soon learned how he liked it when she would softly ride her fingers along his form playing with his tip, and would then would firmly thrust her hand back hard against the base of him, waiting there for a moment while she squeezed until he met her force with a wonderful groan of pleasure.

Jaime’s breath quickened, and he grasped the skin of Brienne’s back firmly as if he feared she would fly away, drawing her close to him as he gasped against her neck. She could tell from the way he quieted, that he was nearing his peak and enjoying everything she was doing to him. “Oh Gods, I love you.” He breathed into her hair, panting with exertion.

“I love you, too.” Brienne whispered in his ear. Her hot breathe down his neck was more than he could take, and he felt himself reaching his climax.

“I’m going to come.” He warned her, not wanting to spill his seed all over her hand.

“It’s alright.” She permitted, and pulled him harder.

A heavy moan burst from his throat, and he buried his face in her shoulder, afraid his volume would carry through the door. She felt his body spasm forcefully against her. Gasping in groaning delight, he reflexively released his warm flow over her fingers. Sighing with spent passion he collapsed against her. She slid her hand back into the water and washed it free of the remnants of him, smiling sweetly. He kissed her once more, and lounged in the intimacy they had shared.

“You are amazing.” Jaime smiled at her.

He took a fresh cloth that Mary had set beside the tub and cleaned the evidence of their fervor from himself, and finally from the floor. He pulled his britches back into place. Then he took the soap and carefully bathed Brienne as she luxuriated in the warm water. She was happy she could bring him such pleasure. Jaime was happy he was hers. He lathered a cloth and rubbed it the length of her appealing body. He liked the way she rolled her neck in response to his touch to tell him it pleased her. Lingering over her back, he kissed the nape of her neck and was rewarded with a sweet moan of her own.

“When I am well, you owe me.” She smiled mischievously at him.

Bringing her around to face him, he smiled longingly. “As you are aware, A Lannister always pays his debts.” He grinned. “That is a debt I will gladly repay ten fold.” He kissed the bridge of her nose.

When her bath was done, Jaime helped Brienne stand and step out of the tub. He took a clean cloth and dried every inch of her. Then he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed. They found their son awake in the cradle by the bedside, and beginning to fuss about his hunger. Jaime gently laid Brienne into the sheets, and then placed their babe into her arms. He climbed onto the bed beside them and lay watching contentedly as she fed their child. The little family rested there for the remainder of the afternoon, allowing themselves to bask in their love and happiness.  
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Brienne rested and built her strength back over the next several days. She was overjoyed when, at last she was healed and well enough to care for her newborn. Jaime watched her grow stronger each day. His heart and his hope swelled as he saw Brienne return to herself. The care she received and the rest she enjoyed did wonders, and although she still tired easily, Brienne was soon well on the road back to health.

A few days after she had awakened from her fever, Jaime returned to their cozy chamber after tending to their horse. He found her sitting up in bed, her knees bent upward with Galladon laid upright on her lap. His tiny hands grasped both her thumbs as she moved her arms in little circles above him. The baby was smiling adoringly at his mother. She sang sweetly to him. Jaime did not recognize the tune. Brienne serenaded their son with images of ocean waves, of golden beaches, of seashells, and sapphire blue waters. He realized it was a folk song from her home of Tarth. Its ancient poem, set to her melodious voice was the most beautiful thing his ears had ever heard, save for their son’s first cry.

Jaime paused and watched them from the doorway, happy to stay there forever. Brienne studied her child with pride and awe as she sang, her face the picture of pure joy. Suddenly she threw her head back in laughter at an adorable face Galladon made at her, and chuckled bashfully as she noticed her baby’s father watching them.

“I didn’t see you standing there.” She almost apologized, a lovely blush tinting her cheeks.

“Don’t let me interrupt.” Jaime laughed and walked to the bed. “Don’t let me stop you.” He crossed the room and sat beside her on the mattress. “I was quite enjoying your performance.” He kissed her temple.

“Oh. Just a little song I learned a long time ago.” Brienne attempted to distract his interest in her crooning. “I haven’t thought of it in year.” She confessed.

Jaime took one of Galladon’s little fists into his. “Perhaps you had no reason to sing it until now.” He grinned and made and exaggerated face at his son.

“Your mother should sing more often.” He addressed their child in a lovingly sticky sweet voice. “Yes, she should. Yes, she should.” Jaime gushed at the boy. Brienne could barely contain her glee at the image of him, lost in enjoying fatherhood. Then she too reveled in the love of her babe.

Jaime noticed her gaze upon Galladon and smiled warmly at them. “He has your eyes.” He remarked reverently, feeling the baby’s cheek with the backs of this fingers.

“Yes.” Brienne agreed. “And thank the Gods, everything else about him comes from you.” She noted sincerely.

Jaime raised his eyes to her. “Don’t say that.” He begged. “Why would you say that?” He seemed almost hurt by her remark.

Brienne shook her head, not understanding what he could not comprehend. “I would not wish my curses upon anyone, especially my own child.” She scoffed.

Jaime took her hand in his and stared into her brilliant blue eyes. The same that now brightened his own son’s face. “I will not use the word beautiful, only because others have marred its true meaning for you.” He lamented to her. “It has been quite some time now, but I cannot remember exactly when it was, that I began to consider you the most exquisite thing I have ever known.” His voice grew low and longing as he continued his admiration of her. “There are none of your equal in all of Westeros, or any other kingdom.” He swore. “Truly the God’s own perfection in living form.” He brought his hand to caress her cheek, and bring her toward him. “An angel. My angel.” He kissed her as if she were the very embodiment of beauty and desire. To him she was.

Brienne caught her breath, lost in his kiss. She almost did not know how she should react to the praise she had never before received. She pulled back from him, her eyes glistening with tears. “No one has ever regarded me that way.” She whispered, her face still close to his.

“My heart is gladdened that I am the first to see your allure.” Jaime told her, his eyes holding hers firmly. “It also breaks that I am the first to tell you this truth.” Sadness echoed in his voice. “You should have been revered from the first day you graced this world.” He asserted. “You have been surrounded by fools your entire life, myself the biggest one.” He agonized.

It was Brienne’s turn to caress Jaime’s face. “Please, don’t.” She begged, “I understand the reasons for your actions.” She comforted him. Brienne tightened her grip on his jaw, forcing him to look ahead of them, as she had chosen to do. “We will put it all behind us. We will triumph over our trials and pain, and we will rise above them.” She was determined that he forgive himself. Brienne would not let her trauma determine her life or threaten her future, and she would not allow Jaime’s past to impact them, either. “We have to move forward, for him.” Brienne led Jaime’s gaze to their son, still ready for play nestled upon her legs.

Jaime nodded his head. “You are so strong.” He declared to her. “Your very presence has made this world...has made my world, a far better place.” He told her. “I will never take that for granted again.” He vowed, tasting Brienne’s kiss once more, and finding peace there.  
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A few days later, Jaime realized that they needed to continue their trek. His mind had been formulating a plan for how he would deal with Cersei, and he needed to ensure that Brienne and Galladon were safe and protected at Casterly Rock before setting events into motion. Brienne was much better, and no longer needed to spend her hours in bed. Her natural grandeur had returned to her and shown through the simple peasant garments that Mary had given her. She had even begun to help the older woman with the household chores, and the two had formed almost a mother-daughter relationship. It was clear that Brienne enjoyed that kind of closeness. She had never known it before. He hated the thought of taking Brienne from this peaceful place, but they could not stay there forever.

Jaime informed Brienne of the need of their leaving, and although she was saddened at the thought of parting from Mary and Aiken, she knew he was right. On the morning of their departure, they were surprised to find not their familiar mount waiting for them in the barn, but a sturdy wagon pulled by a thick strong work horse. The vehicle had been filled with new straw, and supplies for their journey. Aiken and Mary stood ready to bid them farewell.

“We would be pleased if you would take this for your travel.” Aiken motioned toward the wagon.

Jaime began to shake his head in denial. “We cannot.” He tried to refuse kindly. “It is too much to ask.” He answered.

“You will surely be in need of it.” Brienne also tried to kindly reject the offer.

“The harvest is done for the year.” Mary explained. “We have already taken our crops and goods to market. It will most likely sit unused until sowing time next year.” She smiled.

“Please.” Aiken said, his eyes imploring Jaime to accept his offer. “We insist. It will be more comfortable for Lady Brienne and the babe.” Aiken would not see them leave his home on anything less. “The hay will provide a hiding place for them, should it become necessary. The Gods forbid.” He prayed. “Besides, the Queen’s men are searching for a knight and a woman on horseback, not a farmer.” He pointed out shrewdly.

Jaime and Brienne nodded to each other, hearing the logic in his words, and then turned to the old couple that had cared for them. “It is most kind of you.” Jaime smiled. “We will find a way to repay you.” He promised.

“Just see these two to safety.” Aiken said bowing his head. “That will be all the payment we wish for.” He smiled.

“We shall never forget your kindness.” Jaime grasped the old man’s shoulder, overwhelmed with the couple’s selflessness.

Cradling Galladon in her arms, Brienne turned to Mary, unable to hold back her tears. “You saved my life.” She told the woman who had seen her back to health. “You saved my baby’s life.” Her voice quivered, as she looked upon her infant and kissed the top of his head.

Jaime’s arm found Brienne’s shoulder, and he held her tightly as he added his grateful words to Mary. “There is no way I could ever thank you enough. Any words I could find, would never be adequate.” He admitted. “You brought her back to me, and for that I owe you my own life.” He conceded.

“You owe nothing, Ser Jaime.” Mary corrected him. “I am just thankful it was us you found.” She told him, relief from what could have befallen them in her voice.

“As am I.” Jaime agreed, he reached for Mary’s hand and bowed in front of her. So great was his thankfulness that if she or Aiken had asked for the world at that moment, he would have found a way to give it to them.

When he arose, Jaime gazed at Brienne lovingly. “We should go.” He whispered to her.

Brienne nodded and hugged Mary gratefully. Mary returned her affection and laid a sweet kiss upon Galladon’s tiny head. “Goodbye Little One. May you only ever know love and happiness.” She wished for the babe. Brienne smiled at the blessing Mary had bestowed upon her son. She turned and embraced Aiken with equal consideration.

“Blessings upon you, My Lady.” He smiled softly, and then handed Brienne into Jaime’s waiting arms.

Jaime took Galladon from Brienne and helped her climb into the wagon. Any other time, the act would have been unnecessary and she would have bounded up with ease. Now, however, she allowed his care of her. Once settled, Brienne reached for their child, and wrapped in him up within the warm cloak Mary had given her for the journey. Jaime raised the hood of his own newly acquired mantle and nodded to Aiken and Mary as he moved to check the horse. Once satisfied with the rigging, he joined Brienne on the seat of the wagon. With a flick of the reigns, they were traveling once more. The fugitives left their warm and friendly sanctuary and their new friends behind. A final wave of farewell was the image with which they left Mary and Aiken, as they turned again toward the unknown of the open road.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime must protect Brienne and their infant son as they come closer to Cersei's forces than ever before.

Jaime had been correct in his estimation. They had been close to a half day’s journey from Stoney Sept when he and Brienne had found refuge with Mary and Aiken on their little farm. What he had not foreseen was that the town had become a magnet for Cersei’s soldiers. As they neared the ancient hamlet, it became clear that it was undoubtedly overrun by the forces of the crown. Jaime felt his heart stop when he realized that if he had kept riding that evening a fortnight ago, instead of seeking shelter in the warm barn, he might have unknowingly delivered Brienne and their child into Cersei’s hands. He swore, he would never come near to making a mistake like that again. Deciding it best to bypass the village, Jaime took them over a narrow and nearly hidden pathway to avoid detection. The route led them toward the north around the town and would add a day to their journey. It was a delay Jaime was willing to accept if it would keep Brienne and the baby protected. Even along the back road they had already encountered patrols. The last had paid far too much attention to the simple farmer’s wagon, and Jaime was growing increasingly wary.

Brienne was hiding the baby as best she could beneath her cloak. However, she was still a striking figure even seated on the bench of the wagon. She and Jaime had both drawn themselves under their hoods, careful to keep their heads low and their eyes fixed on the ground. They could not afford to draw the scrutiny of eager guards. They needed to avoid detection at all cost. Unwilling to take any further chance, Jaime drove the cart away from the road and into an overgrown field. Pulling up behind a growth of small trees, he drew the horse to a stop, and gently took little Galladon from Brienne’s arms. She too had seen the interest they had attracted from the soldiers along their way. Brienne feared how much longer they could manage without detection. She looked worriedly at Jaime, knowing his mind was troubled with the same thoughts.

“There are too many patrols for my liking.” Jaime told Brienne with urgent concern. “I want you hiding under the straw with the baby.” He urged. “Aiken was correct. They should not be alarmed by a lone farmer.” Jaime confirmed. “Even concealed beneath your cloak you are...”

Brienne lowered her head, a defeated breath escaping her throat. “Conspicuous.” She tried to finish his thoughts. It was not the first time her size had made it difficult for her, but now with her child’s safety in question, it was more upsetting than all the other times she had felt so prominent. There was no way she could truly conceal herself out in the open.

Jaime slid his palm under Brienne’s chin and lifted her self conscious eyes to his. He understood how sensitive she was about her height, and would never describe it in such problematic terms. “I was going to say that even under your cloak, you are still obviously a woman.” He smiled lovingly at her, and then sweetly smoothed the crown of their son’s head as he regarded him with pride. “And this little bulge beneath the fabric is unmistakably a babe in your arms.” He smiled as Brienne relaxed, allowing the love for their little family to wash over them both.

Then Jaime’s face grew troubled once more. “It is only a matter of time before someone takes an interest in us, and realizes who we are.” He did not want to worry her, but they needed to be careful.

Brienne nodded, understanding the truth in his concern. She grasped his hand, and held it tightly in her lap. “How long until we reach Casterly Rock?” She asked, dread written on her features. She just wanted this all to be over.

“We still have several days travel ahead of us.” Jaime answered her. He could not bear to see Brienne so discouraged. He moved closer to her, and forced her gaze to meet his again. “Listen to me.” He drew her attention from her dire thoughts. “Think of how far we have already come.” He smiled, trying to turn her spirits. “The Gods must be on our side.” Jaime affirmed, hoping he was right. “They brought you back to me. They led us to Mary and Aiken. They made you well.” He continued, unwilling to let her believe anything but certainty that their deliverance was already assured.

Brienne could not help but feel her faith renewed as she listened to Jaime’s impassioned response to her hopelessness. Her smile returned as she joined him in his gratitude to the Gods. She moved her hand to join Jaime’s, caressing their son’s tiny head. “They gave us him.” She grinned adoringly.

Jaime nodded against Brienne’s temple. “Yes.” He smiled as Galladon wriggled with delight at the touch of both his parents. Mother and father chuckled lovingly at their child’s reaction to them. “I cannot believe, they would be so benevolent, only to thwart all of our efforts now.” Jaime comforted Brienne again. “We will make it to Casterly Rock. I am sure of it.” He told her with conviction.

“Your faith restores my hope.” Brienne smiled at him. “You make me feel as if we are already there.” She touched his face reassuringly.

“Hold on to that.” Jaime told her. “I will get us there. I swear it.” He proclaimed. Brienne nodded as he leaned into her and kissed her passionately. They both found their convictions strengthen as they clung to each other.

Parting reluctantly from Jaime’s arms, Brienne pivoted around on the narrow bench and lowered herself into the straw that Aiken had heaped into the bed of the wagon. She burrowed as far under the strands as she could. She then fanned out the mantle she wore beside her to create a comfortable nest for Galladon to lay upon, and reached up for her child. Jaime carefully lowered their infant son into her embrace.

“If you need anything, reach under the bench and tug on my cloak.” Jaime smiled at Brienne. She nodded her understanding as she held onto to his fingers a moment longer. He returned her hopeful regard. With regret, they let go of each other’s hand. Brienne brought the edge of her cloak around Galladon to shield him from being poked by pieces of straw. She gave Jaime a brave smile, as he scooped more hay on top of her and their babe, hiding them completely from view.

Jaime waited, listening carefully to be sure that no patrols would witness him pulling the wagon back onto the road. When no sounds could be heard, even in the distance, he drove slowly back onto the worn trail and continued their trek around Stoney Sept. Two more groups of soldiers passed him along the way. Luckily the guards in neither detachment took particular notice of the simple farmer as they spurred their mounts toward their duty. Jaime counted himself fortunate, but would not allow complacency to settle upon him. His senses heightened, his reflexes alert, he was keenly aware that Brienne’s survival, and that of their child depended solely upon him. He diligently watched for any sign of danger. Their route would still take them ominously close to the village they were trying to avoid. It was on the western side of town, where the ancient old wall opened and the village seemed to spill out through the breach, where they came closest to exposure. It was also where they were find their greatest ally.  
——————————  
Jaime maneuvered horse and cart slowly and carefully through the crowd in order not to draw unwanted attention, his precious cargo hidden under the straw. Lying out of site, Brienne strained her ears above the noise of the town, trying to form an image in her mind of what must be occurring beyond her shielded refuge. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and she drew Galladon closer into her warm embrace to comfort him. Sensing his mother’s fear, the baby had begun to fuss at the loud and unfamiliar noises around him. Brienne whispered to him, and tried to calm him, but to no avail. Their tiny infant’s cry soon threatened to give Brienne and Jaime away to their enemies. Brienne carefully undid the ties of her frock and slipped herself from within. She moved Galladon close to her, and was relieved when her baby happily took her breast and began nursing greedily. Her anxiety diminished somewhat as her child quieted and calmed, but her worry continued to trouble her mind at the sounds that threatened around them.

Jaime continued to drive the wagon purposefully through the busy crowd. The old street was full of criminals, vagrants, harlots, soldiers, and citizens all sort seeking their own self serving goals. The pathways of even this far edge of town were so narrow that several passersby were shoved angrily against the sides of the wagon. Unseen, Brienne jumped at the sounds of humans bouncing against her hiding place. Holding his breath, Jamie drove near a small group of soldiers. They must have been provincial guards, as he did not recognize their armor. Counting himself fortunate at that bit of luck, Jaime was almost past them when he felt a heavy thud against the side of the wagon.

“Hey!” A loud, gruff voice called at the rear. “Stop in the wagon!” One of the soldiers ordered. Jaime’s heart jumped into his throat. He decided it was best to comply, and not race ahead as everything within him bid. Slowly, he reined the horse to a stop and waited.

The angry, drunken soldier who had himself stumbled against the cart tramped toward the driver’s seat, face red with rage. “What are you about?” He bellowed at Jaime. “You nearly ran me over.” The man exaggerated.

Jaime hid his eyes, and lowered his head while rage flared within him. He wanted to draw out the sword that still hung at his side, hidden behind him by his cloak, and separate the man from his head. Instead, remembering his dear living cargo, he hid his handless arm in the folds of the weave that engulfed him and tried to appear as meek as he could. He answered the livid soldier as he imagined a timid unthreatening poor man would. “Beg pardon, My Lord.” He squeaked. “I meant no harm.” Jaime groveled. “The streets are crowded today. It is difficult to keep the wagon straight.” He overly apologize.

“Well maybe I’ll just relieve you of your pathetic cart, and your fine work horse.” The surly, ill-tempered man threatened.

“No, Ser.” Jaime pleaded, his mind spinning for a plausible lie. “Please. This wagon is all my family has to work our tiny farm.” He begged. Under the straw, Brienne held her breath, listening to the exchange between Jaime and the guard. Frightened, and unable to act, she held her baby closer to her, and prayed the man would go away.

“Oh. You need this decrepit little farm buggy, do you?” The soldier mocked. “Perhaps watching it burn to the ground would teach you to be more careful.” The man’s face sparkled with evil glee, enjoying the game he was playing with one he believed a peasant.

Jaime’s eyes widened. “Please, My Lord. I beg you.” He responded, his voice needing no dramatics to impart the fear that rose within him. Hearing the menacing exchange, Brienne drew in her breath sharply, closed her eyes, and prayed the armored sentry would leave them in peace. Before the guard could threaten Jaime again, Brienne heard another louder voice, break the exchange.

“Halt!” The unknown voice echoed as if through metal. It afforded Brienne no respite from her worry. She could only lay in the darkness and wonder what new dread they had to fear.

Out in the open, Jaime shrunk back as a knight in dark armor, seated on a tall black horse suddenly appeared beside him. His metal visor drawn, Jaime could not see the stranger’s face. He drew his sword and held it at Jaime’s throat. “I see you think nearly running down one of the our brave lawmen is a forgivable offense.” The knight blustered, keeping his blade leveled in Jaime’s direction.

Jaime could not believe what was happening. “No, My Lord...” He stammered. “Please let me explain.” He was desperate that Brienne and the baby not be discovered.

“Silence.” The knight on horseback ordered. “You will have plenty of time to explain yourself to the magistrate.” He promised. Turning to the still irate soldier, the man addressed him as a compatriot. “I will see to this.” He promised. “Rest assured, it will be dealt with.” He promised. “You may return to your post.” He ordered.

Assuming the knight was of higher rank by the authority in his voice, and the finery of his armor, the guard stood down. He nodded, and moved back toward his group of fellow soldiers. The knight, however, turned his attentions once more upon Jaime. His sword still pointed at the seeming farmer, it soon became clear that he had no intention of letting Jaime go on his way.

“You will drive your wagon where I direct.” The knight ordered.

“To where should I drive?” Jaime asked, worried for Brienne and Galladon, and still looking for a chance to escape.

“You should drive to where I tell you to stop.” The mounted knight scoffed, moving his foot from the stirrup of his saddle to the wagon bench beside Jaime. “Remember, if you try to race off, my horse can certainly outrun you.” He warned. Jaime glare at the man, his brain whirling with possible escape plans.

“Forward.” The knight ordered.

Jaime decided that wherever the knight was to lead him, they may stand a better chance with him than trying to fight amidst crowded street. Jaime was still very capable and motivated to battle anyone who threatened Brienne and Galladon. If he could get the man alone, he may be able to overpower him. Warily, he reigned the horse into motion and drove where the knight instructed.

Jaime could almost feel Brienne’s fear and nervousness as she lay behind him in the bed of the wagon. He longed to see her face, to feel her touch, to reassure her, but knew that he must continue as if she were not there. He was led along the final yards of the busy town street until the crowd began to grow thinner. Finally, the village was left behind and the knight led him further into the countryside. Growing more suspicious with each growing mile, Jaime started to slow the cart, leery of taking Brienne and their child further into danger.

“Keep moving.” The knight shouted. Jaime reluctantly resumed his former speed.

Once they were well away from the town, the knight motioned for Jaime to stop. He sat still in the saddle, listening and surveying their surroundings. Jaime grew increasingly nervous. They were nowhere near any kind of jail, as the man had told the angry guard in Stony Sept. Apparently satisfied, the knight pointed for Jaime to pull off the road into a dense woods. Unwilling to take any further risk with Brienne and Galladon, Jaime refused to move. He saw no logical reason for the need to be led into the woods. Whatever was to happen, he would stand and fight here.

“Who are you?” Jaime squinted at the knight, whose bizarre actions were making no sense.

The knight turned and stared at Jaime. “A friend.” A familiar voice answered as he raised his visor. Jaime could not contain his amazed laughter when he found himself staring at the cheeky grin of Podrick Payne.  
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Taking the leads, Podrick led the draft horse off the road and into the safety of an overgrown thicket. He quickly dismounted his large black stallion. Jaime sat on the wagon bench dumbfounded, still unable to grasp that he was not about the meet his eminent death. “I pray that Ser Brienne is hiding under the straw?” Podrick questioned Jaime urgently.

Brought out of his relieved shock by the mention of Brienne’s name, Jamie joined Pod on the ground, and quickly began digging through the fodder, pushing back the dried grasses as he searched deeper. Within a few moments he found himself peering at Brienne’s frightened face. She searched his eyes, unsure if they were yet safe or not. He smiled warmly at her and helped her sit up. She left Galladon sleeping beside her and raised herself up. She blinked against even the dim light filtering through the trees, her eyes adjusting from the darkness in which she had hidden. As images came to her, she gasped seeing the armored figure that stood next to Jaime. Before she could wonder at Jaime’s lack of alarm, recognition came to her.

“Podrick!” Brienne affirmed with delight, grinning at her former squire.

Podrick bowed low, and returned her affection. “It is good to see you, Ser.” He told her happily. His worry for her had been overwhelming these past months.

Brienne shook her head. “You have no idea how much truer that statement is from our end.” She told him cheerfully.

Jaime carefully lifted Brienne from wagon bed, and set her on her feet. He then reached back into the straw and cradled a sleeping Galladon into his arms. Podrick stood in awe, watching as Jaime brought the babe to Brienne and nestled their infant into her arms. He escorted her a few feet to a fallen log upon which he gently sat her down. Podrick followed them, and knelt in front of Brienne staring at the bundle in her arms.

“Oh, My Lady.” Podrick whispered in reverence. “You have been blessed.” He complimented, unable to take his astonished stare from the beautiful babe Brienne held.

“That we have.” Brienne smiled at him, and then up at Jaime who clasped her shoulder lovingly and beamed back at her in agreement.

“I have never seen such a handsome child.” Podrick congratulated them. “A boy or girl?” He asked, his smile bright and joyful.

“A boy.” Jaime announced proudly.

“His name is Galladon.” Brienne told Podrick. “For my dear brother.” She looked upon her son’s tiny face with adoration.

Pod was quiet for a moment, and then realization reminded him of the ordeal Brienne had suffered, and all while she had carried the child. “She kept you prisoner, this whole time?” He gulped in disbelief at Cersei’s cruelty. His eyes growing grim with hatred for The Queen.

Jaime and Brienne tensed at the memory. He brought his hand to rest protectively at the back of her neck. “An offense for which Cersei will pay dearly. I assure you.” Jaime promised them.

Podrick nodded at him, and stood. “That is why I am here.” He told them. “I offer my services to see you all safely to Casterly Rock.” He swelled with pride.

Brienne gave Pod a relieved sigh. “How did you find us?” She asked in astonishment.

“I imagine my brother had some part in it.” Jaime chuckled.

“Yes.” Podrick agreed. “The Queen is not the only one with spies all over the Kingdom. The moment Lord Tyrion was informed of your escape, he tasked me with finding you and bringing you safely to home.” He told them.

“Westeros is a huge place.” Brienne declared. “How did you know where to look for us?” She turned to Pod, unsure if his success was due to luck to skill.

“Lord Tyrion knew you would be headed West, and avoiding the main roads.” Podrick informed them. “I’ve crossed the width of the continent between Kings Landing and Casterly Rock no less than three times upon the back trails searching for you.” He told them.

“It is fortunate you came upon us when you did.” Jaime reached over and clapped Pod on the shoulder. His unspoken gratitude obvious.

“I’m sure you could have easily dispatched that drunken lout.” Podrick nodded to Jaime.

“Lucky for him, then, that I did not need to.” Jaime laughed.

At that Galladon stirred and cooed in Brienne’s embrace as if to agree with Podrick’s assessment of his father’s bravery and skill. The little group laughed and enjoyed the relief of security and unity take a weight from their shoulders. Pod felt as through he had fulfilled his oath to Tyrion in at last finding Jaime and Brienne, and their child. Jaime now had an ally in keeping his loved ones safe. Brienne felt a step closer to letting go of the fear she had known in her captivity, and seeing her baby out of danger.

“Why don’t the both of you relax here.” Podrick suggested. “I will prepare a meal, and then we can be on our way to Casterly Rock.” He smiled.

Jaime sat beside Brienne and placed his arm around her shoulder, bringing her close to him. He looked sweetly at their son as the babe looked up with wide blue eyes. Jaime’s fingers tickled the child’s cheek as he spoke. “Podrick, my boy.” He began. “That is the best offer I have had in a long time.” He grinned.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Traveling the final distance toward Casterly Rock, Jaime and Brienne face their worst fear. This time, it is Brienne who must keep their baby safe in the face of a formidable foe.

They traveled on another two days. As they neared the Westerlands, Jaime began to notice that he had been correct in his assessment of the local lords’ loyalty. He had figured that they would be more aligned to their close fealty than to the crown. It seemed they encountered fewer and fewer of Cersei’s troops, however Jaime was still not ready to let down his guard. He sat tense on the wagon bench keenly alert to every sound, every rustle of every leaf. He feared that the longer they moved without skirmish, and the closer they drew to Casterly Rock without detection, the tighter they were straining their luck.

Brienne’s back was killing her from lying in the wagon bed for days. She longed to be sitting above with Jaime, adding her eyes and ears to their defense. However, she understood that as much as her innate skills ached to take over, her new role now was to protect her child. She would keep still and hidden for the rest of her life if it meant keeping her babe safe. She was thankful that at least there were moments when the straw could be brushed away from her face and she could hold her child close in the warm sunlight. From time to time Jaime would feel it safe enough to look back at her, and his smile gave her the courage to go on.

Jaime felt much more at ease with Podrick riding point. It was good to have another set of eyes to watch for dangers. Save for himself and her father, there was no in the world he would have trusted more with Brienne’s well being than Pod. Jaime remembered how the young man had proven himself during the battle at Winterfell. He had grown into an excellent soldier. Tyrion trusted him implicitly, which added to Jaime’s opinion of Brienne’s former squire. He knew that Podrick would give his own life to see Brienne and Galladon kept from harm. He prayed it would not come to that.

They rode cautiously along a rocky mountain pass somewhere between Deep Den and Hornvale, Jaime trying his best to keep the wagon straight along the steep path. There were more miles behind them, and fewer to go until they reached their destination. Even at that thought, Jaime fought the urge to relax in relief. He would not feel completely at ease until they rode through the gates of Casterly Rock. Podrick drew his mount to a stop, and motioned toward a secluded spring through a stand of trees that filled a small but inviting looking pool.

“We should water the horses.” He nodded to Jaime.

“And give Brienne a chance to stretch her legs.” Jaime agreed.

They guided the wagon off the road and into the trees. Podrick took over resting the horses, removing their bits and harnesses, and guiding them to tiny pond to drink. Jaime helped Brienne down from the wagon. She stretched luxuriously, feeling the blood pumping back into her cramped muscles. Jaime rubbed her back, trying to help her feel more comfortable.

“I am so sorry you have to be confined back there.” He whispered, resting his forehead against hers. They did not see the wide smile that crossed Podrick’s face, as he caught a glimpse of their intimate familiarity.

“It’s alright.” Brienne assured him. “We’re closer to Casterly Rock, now.” She wanted to give him a brave face. “I’m sure it won’t be too much longer.” She smiled.

Jaime returned her smile. “I am so proud of you.” He told Brienne. “You have endured enough to make the Gods themselves cry out in agony, and still you hold more hope in your heart than anyone I have ever seen.” He told her wrapping his arms around her.

“Of course I have hope.” She rewarded him with a brilliant smile. “My child is alive. We are together. And soon we will all be safe.” She proclaimed bravely.

“I swear, soon I will erase all of this from your memory.” Jaime promised her. “You will never need to worry about anything again.” He swore.

Brienne brought her hand to his face, and accepted his declaration warmly. “All I want is for us all to be together.” She smiled, and rested closer to him.

“We will be. Always.” He held her close and kissed her.

When they parted, Brienne turned and reached into the wagon bed. She scooped Galladon into her arms. She held her babe close to her, as Jaime escorted them to a shady spot in the trees out of Podrick’s sight line for modesty. He settled her down on the soft carpet created by fallen leaves. Brienne untied the neck of her bodice and pushed it aside. She brought Galladon comfortingly to her breast, so he could nurse. Jaime sat beside them for a while reveling in his little family.

When it was time for Brienne to move the baby to her other side, Jaime kissed her temple and stood. “Are you hungry?” He asked her. “I will see about a meal for us.” He offered.

“That would be nice.” Brienne smiled lovingly at him. He grasped her hand and brought it to his lips with a adoring smile, before taking his leave and heading back to the wagon.

Thanks to the generosity of Aiken and Mary, they had enough food in the wagon to last what should be their entire journey to Casterly Rock. He lowered the rear gate, and with his dagger, began parring off three large slices of the salt cured ham that rested under the straw. He noticed that Podrick had already started a small fire over which to warm the meat. Walking toward the clear blue pool, Jaime reached Pod’s side as he was kneeling to lay out the skewers he had hastily cut from a nearby branch.

“Is all well with Ser Brienne and the baby?” Podrick asked without looking up.

Continuing to stand, Jaime handed Pod the ham slices and returned his view to check Brienne. The site of her cradling their child in her arms took his breath away. “Yes. They are both fine.” He said, silently thanking the Gods.

“Good.” Podrick smiled, relieved.

“Thanks to you.” Jaime clapped Pod on the shoulder.

Podrick shook his head. “You are the one who got them out of the Red Keep.” He said to Jaime gratefully. Jaime looked away, wanting to accept no honor. If it had not been for his weakness, she would not have been there in the first place. He knew that. He wanted quickly to change the subject.

“The last I heard, you were in service to the Starks in the North.” Jaime informed Pod. “How did you come into the bidding of my brother once again?” Jaime asked. He gave a slight chuckle thinking of the way Tyrion always seemed to find just the right helpers when he needed them.

“When Lord Tyrion got word of your escape, be sent a raven to Winterfell, begging Queen Sansa to allow my search.” Podrick’s eyes grew distant, his face falling. “I set south that same day.” He told Jaime.

Podrick’s voice rasped. “Before that I had searched for weeks. I knew there had to be some reason we never found any sign of her.” He wrung his hands at the painful memory. Jaime could tell from the look on Podrick's face, that Brienne’s disappearance from the North had been a painful ordeal for the boy. “I failed her.” He confessed.

“You did no such thing. It wasn’t your fault, Pod.” Jaime tried to comfort him. “You were there to protect her when I was not.” His chest felt empty as he spoke. “You will never know the immensity of the debt I owe to you, Podrick.” He told the young man.

Pod shook his head, still not looking up at Jaime. “I helped you because I owe Ser Brienne the debt.” He said, smiling fondly. Then his expression grew serious. “I have to admit that I very nearly rode you down and took your other hand, when you left her the way you did.”

Jaime’s expression grew as dire as Pod’s. “I would not have blamed you.” He lamented.

“Ser Brienne would kill me if she knew I was telling you this.” Podrick prefaced. “She kept such a brave face during the days at Winterfell after you left. Before she disappeared.” He remembered. “As if nothing had ever happened.” Podrick finally looked up, his eyes locked on nothing in particular across the water. “But I could tell the difference in her. I have never seem someone so sad.” He said, wanting Jaime to know the pain his Lady had felt. “I would walk by her chamber after she retired for the evenings, to make sure she was alright.” He nodded. “I heard how she cried in the night.” Jaime lowered his eyes to the ground, mourning how he had hurt Brienne.

“I left her to protect her.” Jaime tried to explain. “I was not the kind of man she deserved. The Queen, my sister, would have surely killed her.” He confessed.

“You had your reasons.” Podrick accepted. “They are between you and Ser Brienne. They are not my business.” He moved his eyes to the ground. Without raising his head, he addressed Jaime more seriously than he had anyone before in his life. “Just so you know, Ser Jaime, if you ever cause her such pain her again I will take that other hand.” He vowed. “And I will wear it around my neck as a badge of honor.” Jaime had never heard Podrick speak in such a foreboding tone. He knew very well the young man meant every word.

“I promise you, Ser Podrick.” Jaime swore his oath using the young man’s title. “I would sooner cut it off myself before I would hurt her ever again. I would stand willingly before you and welcome your sword through my chest.” Podrick could tell from his tone that Jaime spoke the truth. “Nor will I allow anyone to threaten her, or our son.” He held out his hand to signify the agreement between two men of honor. Podrick rose to his full height, and took Jaime’s hand. He nodded his understanding of the older man’s sincerity. He knew the Lion of Casterly Rock would give his life for Brienne and young Galladon.

The men barely had time to rest in their newfound alliance before they heard the sound of horses behind them. Jaime and Podrick clutched their swords and and spun around to find six members of Cersei’s guard riding confidently into the little secluded grotto they had found. The armor clad men stopped only feet from the pair and jumped from their mounts. Jaime’s mind raced with battle plans, all while his heart wrenched in terror at what their discovery meant for Brienne and the baby.

‘Hide, Brienne!’ Jaime’s silent scream echoed in his frantic brain. He dared not look in her direction. He could not risk drawing the mens’ attention to her.

“Well.” A large battle scarred soldier grinned ominously at Jaime and Pod. He was obviously the commander of the group.

“A knight.” He eyed Podrick condescendingly, then turned toward Jaime. “And a farmer.” He chuckled. “Now, why does this not look right?” He directed his question to his compatriots.

“He looks a little stronger than just a farmer to me.” One of the other soldiers noted.

“Yes.” The commander agreed. “Why would a farmer need an armed escort?” He wondered aloud.

“Look at that sword he carries. That’s a mighty large ruby there.” Another commented. Even from just the hilt which Jaime’s hand grasped, it was obvious the weapon was much finer than a simple farmer would ever dream of carrying.

The commander moved closer to Jaime and Podrick, his eyes never leaving his quarry. He sidled next to Jaime, and examined him up and down. With a lightning quick motion he reached up and tore the cloak from around Jaime’s throat, exposing the absence of his right hand. “Where’s the woman, Kingslayer?” He demanded hatefully.

Jaime’s face turned pained, and grim. It was only partly due to the lie forming in his mind. “She’s dead.” He spewed bitterly at them. “She died in childbirth, you sons of bitches.” He prayed they would believe him.

“Is that why you need the wagon?” The Captain asked. “For her dead body? Is it hidden beneath the straw?” Jaime answered with cool silence.

“Search the wagon.” The man ordered to his soldiers. They wasted no time in drawing their swords and running them into the empty bed of straw. Jaime thanked the Gods that Brienne was not there.

“We buried her, and the babe. Days back along the trail.” Podrick joined Jaime’s fiction, hoping along with him that their words would be believed, and the men would not go searching for Brienne.

Undaunted, the commander smirked. “Find her, and her bastard!” He ordered two of his men. They bowed in salute and turned, heading for the trees.  
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Brienne heard the riders before she saw them. She had finished feeding Galladon, and was resting beneath the large shady trees where Jaime had left them. Her mind and her heart were beginning to fill with hope that they would all soon be safe. From her vantage point in the brush, she watched Jaime and Podrick embroiled in what looked to be a serious conversation. ‘No doubt planning the rest of the journey,” She thought to herself with a thoughtful smile. She closed her eyes, and was beginning to enjoy the familiar weight of her babe cuddled in her arms.

The sounds of the tack dangling from the guards saddles sounded, at first, like the songs of bird through the trees. She almost smiled at the chiming of it. Then, suddenly aware. Her eyes shot open. Soldiers! They were approaching, fast. She wanted to scream a warning to Jaime, but did not dare. Brienne presses herself as close against the tree as she could, desperate to seem invisible. She felt precious moments slipping away, as she ached to join Jaime in the fight. Galladon squirmed in her arms, and she realized that it was Jaime and Pod’s task to dispatch the threat. She must protect her babe.

She was too close. If the baby began to wail, or a sharp eyed guard should spot them in the trees, there would be no escape. Her only hope was to run, now. Brienne rose to her feet as quietly as she could and tiptoed several paces deeper into the tree line. When she moved to a point she felt was beyond site of the soldiers, she turned and sprinted as fast as she could with her bundle in her arms, looking for anything thick and lush enough to conceal them.  
——————————  
Jaime could hold his alarm no longer. Podrick read his motions and met them with urgency of his own as the two drew their swords and charged at the soldiers who remained surrounding them. Their steel flashed in deadly accuracy as they met the advances of their adversaries. It was Podrick who struck first blood, easily overpowering the man closest to him while Jaime set to work on the commander.

Although his heart raced with fear for Brienne and Galladon, Jaime could not afford the luxury of allowing that terror even a moment of clarity. He forced himself to put thoughts of them to the back of his mind and focus on defeating his enemy. He knew he would be no help to the woman he loved and their child if he were dead or captured. The commander’s skills were formidable. His talent with a sword nearly matched Jaime’s. It was the slight bit of difference between their abilities that would be the factor to decide the winner. Jaime was quicker, his reflexes sharper. The burly, heavily armored guard swiped at Jaime’s middle, taking too long a moment to recover on his follow through. It was the opening Jaime needed. He thrust his sword into the man’s gut before he could complete his previous move. The man fell to his knees, his insides spilling to the dirt. The strength of Jaime’s Valyerian steel sword, Widow’s Wail, easily cut through the man’s armor as he fell, slicing him up to his neck.

There was no time to revel in victory as Jaime rushed to assist Podrick, who had himself dispatched another of the guards. His momentum was stopped by Brienne’s loud scream from the trees. Even the guards paused their battle and turned in the direction of the terrified shriek from the distraught mother. Jaime’s fury raged at hearing Brienne’s distress. He could not yet see her. He had no way of knowing to what terrible malicious cruelty she or the baby had been subjected. He was desperate to reach them. He cared nothing about the soldiers who still surrounded him. They would have to cut him to shreds to stop him.

Just as he turned and set his weight in motion to run to Brienne, the two guards who had been sent in search of her emerged from the trees with her tall frame in their grasp. The men pulled and dragged her as she twisted and writhed trying to escape them. Galladon, shielded in her arms, was pressed tightly to her body. Jaime breathed a sigh of relief, that at least they were both still alive. It seemed an eternity to Jaime as he watched Brienne being led with their child to what she thought would be their execution. The closer she came to him, the more Jaime could see the terror and anger that strained her face. He felt his heart like a stone in his chest as he remembered her struggling in the same fashion only a few weeks before as she was led to her supposed death in the Red Keep. He had saved her then, he would do the same again.

“Get your hands off her!” Jaime roared, as the soldiers finally crossed the open ground and stood only feet from him, Brienne still firmly clasped in their grip.

“What are we to do with them?” One of the guards asked his group.

Although their commander lay dead on the ground, the men refused to deny their duty even at the expense of a new mother, and a helpless babe. The three who were left alive seemed determined to carry out their orders. One of them took over the role of leader and reminded his soldiers why they were there. He almost took pleasure in imparting Cersei’s wishes to them.

“The Queen wants the woman and the babe killed.” He reported dryly. “She wants their heads.” The man made sure the others understood.

“I suppose you can kill this one, too.” He motioned toward Podrick, who bristled not for himself but for Brienne. He would gladly die before he would let them harm one hair on Brienne’s head, or that of her child.

Sneering at Jaime, the soldier articulated Cersei’s order for him. “We are to leave the Kingslayer alive. The Queen wants him brought back to the Red Keep.” He almost laughed, imagining the rumors he had heard of what took place between his Queen and her brother. The other guards joined him in filthy amusement.

Fury threatened to eat Jame alive as he learned of the fate Cersei had planned for Brienne and his son. He did his best to control his tensing muscles, but he was ready to pounce. His teeth gritted, Jaime frantic glare swept over their surroundings searching for anything that would give them the upper hand. With a sinking stomach, Jaime realized that their only hope of escape was for Brienne to join the melee.

Jaime’s eyes searched Brienne’s anxiously. She held him in her gaze, her mind equally charged at trying to find a way to keep her baby safe. Jaime’s stare intensified and held hers, begging her to understand his meaning. He quickly glanced down at where the commanders sword lay at his feet. She followed the direction of his stare. Realizing his intent, she lowered her chin in a hidden nod to inform him she agreed with his plan, and was willing to join his efforts. She carefully moved Galladon into her left arm, gripping him soundly and protectively. Her right arm fell to dangle ready at her side.

“I give you fair warning.” Jaime bellowed at the soldiers, his eyes murderously cold. “You can either leave now, and forget you ever saw us, or you can die here by our swords.” He promised.

The guards laughed at Jaime’s warning. “There’s three of us and two of you.” One of the men reminded, sneering at him and Podrick.

Jaime smirked in reply, his secret playing behind his eyes. “Oh, really?” He questioned, eyeing Brienne once more to ensure she was ready. Her expression was steadfast and determined.

Jaime looked sideways as Pod who already seemed to understand what had been silently decided. Regret at the image of Brienne preparing to battle with their child in her grasp ate at Jaime, but he could see no other way. She was certainly trained and skilled enough to handle the sword, and he wanted her armed incase the soldiers did get the better of him and Podrick. She would be able to defend herself and Galladon. If she could just hold off one of the soldiers long enough for he and Podrick to immobilize the other two, they could take over from there. He hoped his plan would work.

Before the soldier could discern what was happening, Jaime lunged forward, digging his toe under the sword. Giving a thrusting kick upward, he sent it sailing through the air toward Brienne. The sunlight through the trees glinted off the shining steel as the weapon seemed to fly, slowly suspended toward the Lady Knight. Brienne took a quick step forward, and with a hand practiced of a lifetime of training, reached out and caught the hilt firmly in her grasp, the babe still held tightly in her other arm.

Jaime and Podrick charged at the two guards nearest them. The air was soon alive with the sounds of steel against steel. The soldier whose fate it would be to fight Brienne stared at her for a moment, disbelieving what he was seeing. She used that instant of shock to take charge of her opponent. She did not wait to defend herself. Her blade cut the air aiming for the man’s core. A few paces from her, Jaime was wild with anger. He was desperate to cut down his enemy so he could race to assist Brienne. Nearby, Podrick was steadily battling his foe.

Brienne’s adversary recovered from his initial surprise and was steadily blocking her volleys. Her arm never wavered from holding her child close to her, pressing him firmly to her chest, her hand a covering shield over his tiny head. The baby’s sense of equilibrium was thrown off by the quick movements of his mother, and he began to wail against her motion. The sound of his child’s cry only intensified Jaime’s frenzy to win his battle and protect them.

Brienne had never fought with such ferocity and need to win. This time she was not only fighting for her life, but for her child as well. Rage burned in the pit of her stomach at this man who was so determined to harm her son. She slammed her sword against his time after time, looking for her opening to run it into his body. While her heart was willing and begged for the taste of victory, her body was still not returned to top fighting form. Her strength still held a measure of weakness from all she had been through. She was unable to balance herself properly with one arm full, and her mind was preoccupied with protecting Galladon from the swinging blades. The guard soon began to get the upper hand.

Across from her, Podrick was evenly matched and was receiving forceful resistance in his fight. He showed no signs of weakening, however, and wanted nothing more than to slice the man down and help Brienne. Jaime fought like never before. Even at Winterfell, he had not struck with such brute force. He glanced at Brienne when he was able, and was aware that she was losing ground. He heard her let out a stifled scream as she barely stopped her rival’s thrust from grazing past Galladon’s hip. Jaime gasped heavily as he saw her stumble, just barely recovering in time to meet another swipe of the guard’s sword. Images of the bear pit at Harrenhal flashed in his mind. She needed him now, even more desperately than she had then.

Her charge had turned into defense, as Brienne worked with all her might to block the soldier’s advance. Fighting for her baby, she refused to give up. She would battle to her last breath. She stumbled once more, and landed upon her knees. Brienne tried to get to her feet, but the enemy blade came crashing down again. She raised the weapon she held above her. The last thing she could do for their protection. She had not brandished a sword in nearly a year, and Brienne felt her arm waning against the strikes she diverted. She was unaccustomed to fighting after her time in Cersei’s dungeon, and the blade that she held was unfamiliar in her grip. For the first time she thought of Oathkeeper, her magnificent sword. The gift Jaime had given her, the symbol of his very heart. Those who had captured her in the North had ripped the sword, her sword, from her side. She had no idea where it now rested. She longed for the comfort of its familiar feel, and knew she would not have faltered with her own weapon in her hand. With another sturdy thrust, the guard sent her arm downward and nearly knocked the unfamiliar steel from her hand.

From somewhere deep within, Jaime felt a primal rage well to the surface. He would not allow these men, or anyone, to harm Brienne and their son. He let loose a loud blood scream, and rushed his opponent, knocking the man off balance. Before the guard could refocus his momentum, Jaime reached up and brought the strong Valyrian steel of Widow’s Wail tearing threw the man’s skull. As he pulled his blade from the soldier’s flesh, Jaime heard Brienne scream his name.

“Jaime!” Brienne’s desperate cry echoed in his ears.

Turning, his heart nearly stopped when he saw her on her knees, still fighting with all she had. Their babe shrieked in her arms. He needed no time to react. He urgently answered her call. “Brienne!” His voice carried to her, letting her know he was coming to her aid.

Brienne squinted against the sun blazing around the form of her attacker. Her trembling hand attempted to draw Galladon as far from the imminent strike as possible. With a last valiant effort she quickly grabbed for the weapon which now lay on the ground before her. Brienne lifted the sword and held it stiffly in front of her. She prepared to sacrifice herself if need be, with the hope that her child would somehow live. The man standing above her was forced to raise his arms in order to bring down another forceful blow. She saw her chance. Swinging the sword around with all her might Brienne caught both the man’s legs in her motion, her bloody scream echoing through the woodland.

The guard’s howled in pain and shock as his legs were sliced in half. Jaime reached Brienne as the the upper part of the soldier’s body slid to the ground, his shins and feet collapsing at opposite angles from each other. The man lay there, staring up into the sky, his blood spilling across the dirt. Brienne was already stumbling to her feet, at last realizing that she and her babe were safe. A few paces from them, Podrick finished the final blows to defeat his challenger, his sword piercing the man’s heart. He quickly turned to come to Brienne’s aid, but realized there was now no need.

Jaime threw himself at Brienne, wrapping her and Galladon in his arms, desperate to ensure that they were unharmed. “Are you alright, My Love? Are you injured?” He questioned, checking her all over. “The baby?” He ran his fingers over Galladon, examining his son for wounds. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found that all was well.

“We are not hurt.” Brienne assured him, her eyes still wild with fear as she gasped for breath.

Jaime laid his head against hers, reveling in the power of her, and joyful with relief that she and their child were unharmed. He held her to him and closed his eyes. He and Brienne both lost the effort to control their shaking, and kneeled together for a long moment. When he finally opened his lids, Jaime realized the maimed soldier was still alive. While he enjoyed the idea of the man dying slowly and painfully, he wanted Brienne to have the satisfaction of sending her adversary the Hells.

Jaime raised Brienne’s face to meet his serious glare. His eyes were proud and bloodthirsty. He reached out and gently took Galladon from her arms, cradling the boy to himself. He raised her sword hand into view. It was still filled with the stranger’s steel. Her eyes followed his to where the guard lay in agony, bleeding out. “Finish him!” Jaime bid her, vengeance in his tone.

Brienne gripped the hilt of the weapon she had wielded, and turned upon trembling legs. Jaime stood back, clearing her path, Galladon held safely in his embrace. Podrick watched nearby, a satisfied grin on his face. Brienne’s chest heaved with exertion as she trudged slowly to stand over her fallen aggressor. She looked into his eyes, and saw the fear she had known moments before. He lay on the ground, looking up at her, wordlessly appealing for mercy. Brienne bent to face him.

She grasped the sword hilt with both hands, disdaining this supposed man of honor who had been so willing to slaughter a babe and his mother on the order of a viscous tyrant like Cersei. She did not remove her stare from the eyes of her target. Never before had she felt so vindictive in her victory, but this man had tried to kill her child. She wanted him to watch her, watching him die.

Brienne trembled as she grasped the sword in both hands and raised it to her full height, its blood-covered blade pointing downward. She watched the man for a moment, trying to squirm away. She would savor this. “It is not me, nor my babe who will die this day.” She proclaimed.

“No, please.” The man begged.

Brienne let all of her fear, hatred, and dread leave her body upon the scream that ripped from her lungs. Savoring every move, Brienne let the sword fall, plunging it into the guards heart. She stood, allowing the feeling of satisfaction to wash over her. It was as if she had struck a blow into the heart of the evil Queen who had imprisoned her, and threatened the life of her child. Pulling the blade from the wound she had inflicted, Brienne watched the remnant of her kill like a hunter. The man’s blood bubbled from the wound, and seeped across his chest. Brienne did not move until she had seen the last bit of life drain from her would be assassin’s face. Then she threw the sword she had used down upon his corpse like a filthy piece of refuse. Breathing a sigh of relief, she turned back to Jaime.

Brienne was in Jaime’s arms before she could even move. His grasp upon her was so tight she could barely tell where she stopped and he began. He moved his body around her like a shield, holding Galladon between them. She peered into his face, and found all she had ever dreamed of. Their lips found each other in a passionate and grateful kiss. His body was in her arms. He was hers. Then, she remembered, his heart.

Brienne raised her face to his almost apologetically. “They took it.” She voiced remorsefully. “I had not realized until now.” She searched Jaime’s face.

“Took what?” He asked in confusion. She was not making sense, and he feared something was gravely wrong.

Brienne choked frantically, her mind unwilling to believe that she had not thought of her magnificent weapon until its absence was so glaring. “Oathkeeper.” She cried. “The men who captured me, and brought me from the North.” She stumbled over her words. “They took it. I know not where it is.” Brienne stammered, regretfully.

Her heart wrenched at the thought that the precious gift Jaime had given her had been gone from her side for so long. Brienne and Jaime both understood that Oathkeeper was not just a sword. His bestowing the weapon upon her had not simply been his way of wishing her success on the quest she undertook to find Sansa Stark. It had been Jaime’s first admission of his love for her. The only confession he could give her at the time. His oath had been the treasure of his heart. His love for her was as strong and indestructible as the Valyrian steel from which the sword had been forged. Brienne’s heart broke to think that it was most probably now in the possession of Cersei.

Jaime shook his head, trying to calm her. He moved Galladon to his right arm, and raised his fingers to her face. He knew exactly where her majestic weapon must be. Holding her barely inches from him, he made another vow to her. “Remember what I told you.” He swore with calm resolve. “It will always be yours.” Jaime held her even tighter. “Even if Oathkeeper is not by your side. It it yours. It belongs to no other.” He assured her.

“It will be returned to you.” Jaime promised. He knew Cersei had the sword. He also knew he would retrieve it for Brienne. Jaime had already realized that he would have to return to Kings Landing. It was the only way to ensure their survival. This time he would complete his act of sacrifice for them. “I swear it on my life.” He clung to Brienne and helplessly fought his own tears which fell over her, as he envisioned the course he must take.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally safe at Casterly Rock, the shadow of Cersei still looms over Jaime and Brienne. Settling in, they loose themselves in an evening of passion.

Jaime felt as though he could breath again. With Casterly Rock rising from the cliff before them, their journey was all but ended. Safety awaited them just within the thick fortified stone walls. He still insisted that Brienne and the babe lie hidden in the wagon, but he smiled widely and confidently for the first time in weeks. He was anxious to see his brother and properly convey the debt of gratitude he owed. Somehow, Tyrion had known that he and Brienne were headed for the Rock, and he had sent Podrick to ensure their arrival. Jaime knew he would never be able to repay him for the lives of Brienne and Galladon.

“Open the gate.” Podrick shouted to the squires who peered down at them from the battlements. “And fetch Lord Tyrion.” He ordered. It was obvious Pod had spent time at The Rock while traversing the continent on his search. He was known, and his commands were followed. Jaime reflected proudly that it was good to see the leadership that Brienne had instilled in the young man.

They drove the wagon swiftly into the courtyard. Bringing the horse to a stop as if they had finally reached the shore after treading water for a hundred years. Huge smiles broke out on the faces of Jaime and Podrick, to have their worrisome journey finally ended. Podrick jumped from his mount and reached to steady the work horse that had so loyally pulled the wagon across the Westerlands. Jaime climbed down from his perch, and breathed in the familiar warm salt air. He took a moment to allow the relief to wash over him.

“Jaime!” Tyrion’s loud jovial call rang across the courtyard as he bounded from the door of the great hall toward his brother. The two shared a long and tearful embrace. Both had feared they would never see the other again.

Tyrion spied the seemingly empty wagon over Jaime’s shoulder. His heart sank, and he pulled free to view Jaime’s expression. “Where...Where is Brienne?” He questioned, already grieved, expecting the worst.

Jaime broke into a wide grin, and snuffed against his happy tears. “She is well, and the babe.” He exclaimed.

Jaime rose, and Tyrion followed his joyful stride to the hay-filled cart. The elder Lannister brother reached into the straw, thrashing it back and forth until he found Brienne’s lovely smile beaming up at him. He helped her to sit up. “We’ve made it.” He told her happily. “We are safe.” Her joy matched his as he lifted her from the bed of the farm wagon and set her upon her feet, finally within the security of his ancestral walls.

Tyrion bowed long and low, in reverence. “Ser Brienne.” He acknowledged. “It is my honor at last, to welcome you to Casterly Rock.” His eyes twinkled with anticipation, noticing the flatness of her belly. Everything that had taken place in the Red Keep the day of her discovery had been reported to Tyrion by his spies. He was well aware that Brienne had been expecting Jaime’s child. He was well aware of what she had suffered.

Brienne nodded in gratitude, as Jaime’s arm found her waist and held her tightly. “I can never convey to you the depths of my thankfulness.” She smiled in earnest. She could not contain her happy tears as her gaze moved to Jaime, who pulled her even closer. Tyrion’s heart grew warm at the affection between the couple.

“You are family.” Tyrion affirmed. “There is no need.” He assured Brienne.

“Speaking of family.” Jaime announced, proudly. He winked at Brienne who turned and reached back into the bed of the wagon.

Within moments, Brienne had scooped up their sleeping babe and cradled him in her arms. Turning back to Jaime, she nestled once more into his embrace, her loving glance traveling from his face to their babe’s and back again. Stealing a well deserved moment, Jaime reached over and kissed Brienne’s jaw below her ear. He happily played with their child’s hands, who even in his sleep grabbed onto his father’s familiar fingers and squeezed them strongly. Again, Jaime’s smile rivaled the bright sun that shone overhead, as if the Heavens themselves were blessing them all. Brienne knelt, eager to give Tyrion a better view of the child.

“This is your nephew.” Jaime announced, standing over them, his eyes glistening. “His name is Galladon.” His voice broke with pride and relief.

Tyrion stared in awe at the tiny infant wrapped in the dingy blanket, quietly slumbering in his mother’s arms. For a moment he could not speak. He could barely breathe. He wanted to prostrate himself at Brienne’s feet and beg forgiveness for the horrors to which Cersei had subjected them both. He looked soberly into Brienne’s eyes and saw there only the loving happiness of a new mother. He knew the hurt and pain was deeper inside her, but for the moment, all he wanted to do was to welcome them and make them both feel at home.

“I have never seen a more enchanting child.” Tyrion declared, grinning uncontrollably at the babe. “Never.” He emphasized. Brienne understood that he meant that not even the children Jaime had fathered from Cersei had been as beautiful as her darling boy. She looked at him with sincere gratitude.

“Thank you, Lord Tyrion.” She nodded with a grateful smile, and caressed the crown of her son’s head.

Tyrion bowed his head in reverence. “Casterly Rock is yours, My Lady. For as long as you will have it.” He bid. Jaime rubbed his hand over Brienne’s back in agreement. Brienne lowered her eyes for a moment, and then raised her gaze in acceptance.

Returning his attentions to the bundle in Brienne’s grasp, Tyrion smoothed the back of Galladon’s tiny hand with his finger. He laughed as it was his thumb of which the boy now took hold and pressed mightily, showing all the strength of the little lion he was. At the sound of his uncle’s merriment, the babe opened his eyes and smiled up at him. Tyrion’s chuckled loudly, and his face brightened. “I think he likes me.” He beamed.

“I think he does.” Jaime agreed, resting his hand on Brienne’s shoulder as she enjoyed the scene.

After allowing himself to be lost in a few precious moments getting to know his infant nephew, Tyrion straightened and brought himself back to the business at hand. “Ser Podrick.” He called.

Podrick, who had busied himself seeing to the horses and the remaining stores in the wagon, rushed quickly to Tyrion’s side. “My Lord?” He questioned, ready to accept any task he was given.

“It appears we owe you an immense debt of gratitude.” Tyrion announced.

Podrick looked down, bashfully. “I am just glad everyone is safe.” He looked sweetly at Brienne and the baby.

Jaime spoke up, unwilling to accept Podrick’s modesty. “I fear that without your help, we would not have made it.” He told the young knight.

Brienne rose to stand next to Jaime. “I agree.” She shook her head, unwilling to imagine what might have happened. “You May have well saved our lives.” She nestled Galladon closer to her, as Jaime wrapped them in his embrace.

Tyrion nodded his wholehearted concurrence. “I knew it was right to call for you.” He affirmed. “I know you were in service to the Starks, but I would be greatly honored if you would consider a new position.” Tyrion began. “As Lord Commander of my guard.” He offered. “I am sure Queen Sansa will agree it is a most worthy and deserved title.” He looked hopefully at Podrick.

Pod’s smile beamed, in anticipation of the new commission. He turned his eyes toward Brienne and Jaime, and found them smiling with pride. He could scarce believe the trust with which he was being honored. Podrick bowed low. “I would consider it a rare privilege, My Lord.” He accepted.

Tyrion patted Podrick’s arm, and happily looked up to address his new Lord Commander. “Very well, we will discuss the details once I have seen these three settled in.” He remarked gladly, and motioned toward Jaime, Brienne, and the babe.

“Yes, My Lord.” Podrick smiled.

Tyrion turned happily to the three rescued fugitives, and motioned them toward the entrance of the castle. “Come.” He invited. “You are tired and weary. Let us see you rested and refreshed.” He offered. Jaime and Brienne followed happily.  
——————————-  
Tyrion showed Brienne and Jaime to the chamber suite he had prepared for her. Jaime’s usual rooms had been made ready for him, although Tyrion was certain his brother would not be staying in them. On their way to the second floor Tyrion imparted to them how he had been so sure they would arrive, that he had ordered their rooms made ready the very day the news of their escape had reached his ear. Even the fires had been kept tended in the hearths since then. Brienne’s quarters were spacious and bright. Comprised of three inner chambers, they entered into a large sitting room, with a sleeping chamber beyond which even through the doorway could be seen filled with sumptuous bed linens and extravagant furnishings. Brienne had grown among luxury at Evenfall, but Casterly Rock was far surpassing anything she had known before. Her head, however, was far from swayed by fancy opulence. She was simply grateful her child was safe.

Brienne’s face lit when she saw that a lovely little nursery had already been outfitted in the room adjacent to the sleeping chamber. There were toys, and lacey plush clothing sized perfectly for her infant. A large lavish oval shaped bassinet stood in the middle of the room. It was made of the finest cherry wood and gilded in gold. A matching rocking chair sat by the cozy fire, ready to hold her as she tended Galladon. Jaime stood by her side as she surveyed her surroundings, his chest puffed proudly at what he was finally able to give Brienne and their son. Tears came to Brienne’s eyes when she thought of the difference between the home that was her son’s birthright, and the tiny grungy abandoned little shack where he had begun his life.

“I trust everything is to your liking, Ser Brienne.” Tyrion wished, seeing the change in her demeanor, and hoping he had not mistakenly offended.

Brienne looked at him thoughtfully. “It is beautiful.” She assured him, as Jaime brought his arm around her shoulders and Galladon cooed in her embrace. “The nursery is perfect. More than I ever dreamed.” She gazed down at her babe while she addressed Tyrion. “Again, I am lacking words to thank you.” She smiled humbly.

“There is no need.” Tyrion asserted.

Jaime thanked Tyrion with a grateful nod, and regarded Brienne, pleased she was happy. “It is not nearly what you both deserve.” He told her lovingly, his hand tracing the curve of her arm. She lowered her head, unable to speak.

Before their conversation could continue, there came a quick rapping at the door and two young chamber maids rushed into the suite, each carrying a large pail of water. Tyrion looked at them and gestured toward a long deep metal bathing tub near the hearth of the sleeping chamber. The girls went to work warming the pails in the fire.

“I thought perhaps a bath might be pleasing.” Tyrion explained. “After so much time on the road.” He clarified.

Brienne nodded. “Thank you.” She said sweetly. “That would very nice, and much welcomed.” She agreed.

Satisfied that he had been correct in his assessment, Tyrion backed away to allow Brienne to begin to relax. He motioned toward the servants now filling the tub. “These girls will be your personal maids.” The two young women stopped and curtsied in Brienne’s direction. She smiled at them in return.

Tyrion cleared his throat. “Forgive my candor, but I was not certain...” He stammered, and seemed embarrassed. He looked at Jaime, almost apologizing for the intimacy of his next words. “Should I secure a wet nurse for you?” He voiced quickly, eager for the question to be finished.

Brienne smiled down at Galladon in her arms. “Oh no.” She answered. “That won’t be necessary. I will care for my child.” She assured him. Jaime looked over them adoringly.

“Very well.” Tyrion answered. “Then, might I steal Jaime for a while?” He asked. “We have some catching up to do.” His face conveyed nothing to cause alarm.

“Of course.” Brienne smiled. She understood that the brothers would want to visit and discuss what their escape would mean for them all.

Jaime stepped closer to Brienne and took a wide awake Galladon from her. “You can enjoy your rest.” He grinned. “I will watch over our little refugee.” He promised, a twinkle in his eye. “You’ve held him nearly uninterrupted for days.” He nestled their son to his chest. “Let me care for him while you see to your own needs.” Jaime insisted.

Brienne let loose of her child to his father. “Alright. But if he needs me...” She began a slight protest.

“I’ll know where you are.” Jaime smiled broadly at her. “Now, go on and lounge in your bath.” He laughed, his face filled with mirth. “The men need to talk.” He joked. Brienne rolled her eyes and playfully swatted his arm as he left her to join Tyrion at the door. He looked back at her as he walked through the doorway, and motioned a silent acknowledgement of his love for her. Then he followed his brother and closed the door.  
——————————  
Jaime, with Galladon in arms, followed Tyrion to what was now the younger Lannister’s solar. He chuckled to himself, thinking how angry Tywin would have been to know that it was Tyrion who was now Lord of the great manor of Casterly Rock. He sighed proudly as he looked down at Galladon nestled against his chest. He wondered if perhaps one day, it might be his son who held that title. ‘His son.’ Jaime repeated in his mind, over and over, not quite believing that it was true. Not a misgotten accident of a sinful act with his own sister. Not a bastard, for he did not think of Galladon that way, and hoped to soon legitimize the boy by taking Brienne as his wife. Not a child he dared not acknowledge, who bore another man’s name. A child of his own, whom he could proudly proclaim to the world. A true heir.

When they reached the large, lavishly appointed solar, Tyrion motioned for Jaime to sit, and poured two large golden goblets of wine. He snickered as he turned and beheld the way his brother gazed at the child in his arms. By the time he reached the tall backed velvet chairs by the hearth, Tyrion’s smile was painted widely across his face watching Jaime whisper to his son, make adoring puffy cheeked faces at him, and kiss his tiny head.

“I’ve never seen you like this before.” Tyrion acknowledged with a grin, handing one of the goblets to Jaime. The older Lannister was too preoccupied in his paternal revelries even to take a drink, and sat the cup on a nearby table.

“I’ve never been a father before.” Jaime answered without looking up. Tyrion raised an eyebrow at him, the specters of Joffrey, Marcella, and Tommen swirling around his brain. Jaime noticed his questioning posture. He knew the thoughts that Tyrion’s expression betrayed.

“Not a real one, anyway.” Jaime’s eyes grew distant for a moment. “I was never allowed to be close to the others.” He lamented. “It was too dangerous.” Jaime recounted.

Tyrion nodded also remembering. “Yes.” He agreed. “Cersei always kept a distance between you and the children.” He sipped his wine, trying to get the bad taste of his sister’s name out his mouth. Jaime nodded painfully and lowered his head. Then he pushed the image from his mind, not willing to darken his thoughts with her while Galladon was in his arms.

A heavy sigh of amazement shuttered from Jaime’s chest. It was as if he was finally able to let go of the fear and anxiety that had plagued his heart during the treacherous journey he, Brienne, and the baby had just suffered. They were safe now, and he could finally cherish their lives, and ponder how much they meant to him. “I delivered him, Tyrion.” Jaime breathed, at last allowing himself to understand the momentousness of the act. “He was born into my own arms, on the dirty floor of a run down shack.” He gritted his teeth sourly thinking of Brienne’s ordeal as she labored to bring their babe into the world, in a hovel. “Quite a beginning for a Lion, wouldn’t you say?” He could not hold back the tears picturing the night Galladon had been born. “But a Lion, none the less. As brave and strong as any.” He sniffed, and smiled at Galladon as the babe reached for him.

“Well then.” Tyrion said, feeling awed by the depths of love his brother showed for his son. “Let us drink to your boy.” He raised his glass. “To young Galladon. May your path be true and unwavering. May you always know love, good health, and good fortune.” He drank to his new nephew.

“To Galladon.” Jaime beamed. He grabbed his goblet, raised it, and took a sip without ever lifting his eyes from his child. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “My son.” He declared proudly. “Healthy, and sweet, and gentle, and of the woman I love.” He declared, rolling the babe’s tiny fist softly in his own. “You should have seen Brienne.” Jaime smiled. “She was so brave and determined.” He looked up, picturing her almost as if Brienne had entered the room.

“And to Brienne.” Tyrion offered, again lifting his toast.

Jaime smiled eagerly ready to celebrate the woman whom he loved more than his own life. “To Brienne.” He toasted. ‘Gods, how I love her.’ He added silently to himself, as he took a long slow drink to celebrate her.

Then Jaime’s eyes grew soft with bitter tears, and his face dimmed. “I did not even know about him.” He lamented, searching Tyrion’s face as if he would have the answers to the thoughts that tortured his soul. “I knew not that he burgeoned in Brienne’s womb. I had no idea they were only paces from me the entire time.” He choked. “She took them, and kept them from me.” He closed his eyes tight, trying to rid himself of the images of that day in the Red Keep when the guards had dragged Brienne, heavy with his child, in front of the Iron Throne. “She was going to kill them.” Jaime whispered through his tears, barely able to find his voice.

Tyrion’s stomach turned at the thought of Cersei’s vileness. He knew of what despicable acts she was capable. He had been on the receiving end of her villiany many times in his life. He did not know why he or Jaime should be surprised at the lengths to which she would go to keep what she saw as hers. He knew Jaime had left Brienne to try to protect her from their sister. He could see the guilt in Jaime’s eyes that it had not been enough. Jaime had broken Brienne’s heart, as well as his own, and still Cersei had almost cost them everything. Tyrion was determined that neither Brienne nor Jaime would ever be subjected Cersei’s evil again.

“You are here, now.” Tyrion reminded Jaime. “You are both safe. You can start to heal, and build your life together.” He tried to smile. “You need never think of Cersei again.” He vowed. Tyrion knew as he spoke that simply trying to forget would never be enough for Jaime. He watched as a cloud settled over his brother’s face.

Jaime sat still and quiet for a long while, staring at Galladon. When at last, he spoke again, his tone chilled Tyrion to his core. “I have to go back.” Jaime said plainly.

“What? Why?” Tyrion’s face fell.

Jaime looked up sternly at his brother, and held him in his stare. “You know why.” He said coldly. “They will never truly be safe while Cersei lives.” He voiced what Tyrion already feared. “Even this refuge, Casterly Rock, is a prison for them. You know what she will do to them if they ever leave it.”

Tyrion nodded deliberately, understanding. “You’re going to kill Cersei.” He acknowledged.

Jaime nodded. “I have to.” He told Tyrion. “I cannot allow her to be a threat to them.” He determined. “She does not deserve life after what she did to them.” His resolve was stern and steadfast.

Again, they were silent for long minutes, until Tyrion spoke again. “What about Brienne.” He asked. “How will she feel about that?” He questioned.

“About killing the women who held her captive, who nearly killed her and her child?” Jaime snorted. “I imagine I will have to hold her back. She will want that pleasure.” He predicted.

“I mean about your leaving?” Tyrion clarified. “You left her once before.” He reminded.

“That was different.” Jaime’s jaw tensed. “I was a fool.” He admitted. “Brienne knows I lover her, and her alone.” He asserted. “She will understand.” He tried to convince himself more than Tyrion.

“And what if you do not return?” Tyrion warned.

“Nothing will keep me from Brienne and our child.” Jaime swore, as if he and he alone controlled the outcome of his plan.

“Killing the Queen is a dangerous mission.” Tyrion advised. “There are many in the Keep the protect her. Do you honestly think she would spare your life if it meant hers.” He warned.

“It will not come to that.” Jaime proclaimed, confidently. “I know how to get to her, privately. I know how to sneak away, unseen.” He reminded his brother. He spent his entire life in the shadows. “I will return to Brienne and Galladon.” He vowed.

“I hope you are right.” Tyrion said earnestly, glaring at Jaime as he swallowed hard from his goblet.  
—————————  
Brienne had finished her bath, and it had been wonderful. The warm water felt as if it were not only washing the grime of the road from her, but her worries as well. She had reclined extravagantly in the long, deep, tub that actually fit her tall frame. The last time she had enjoyed that luxury was at Evenfall where her father had ordered one specially made for her. Her maids were eager to see to her every need, and were sweet young girls. She liked them immediately. Brienne was shocked when one of the girls opened an ornate wardrobe and it was filled with clothing. The garments it contained not only suited Brienne’s taste for britches and tunics, but were also very close to her size.

“Lord Tyrion had these specially made for you, My Lady.” One of the maids informed her. “If something does not fit to your liking, we can alter it quickly.” She smiled.

Her body had still not recovered completely from her pregnancy. Brienne chose a pair of wide legged britches for comfort, and a soft linen tunic in her favorite shade of blue. It fit her perfectly, and was very close to the blue of her house Sigil. She wondered if perhaps Tyrion had chosen the color to help her feel closer to her own home. She pushed thoughts of Tarth from her mind, unsure if her father would be proud of her and his new grandson, or if he would disown her for presenting him an heir born not under the vows of marriage. She would not think of that now, Brienne told herself. She had every reason to be happy and hopeful, and after her struggle, she wanted to enjoy that feeling. 

After bathing and dressing, Brienne suddenly felt quite exhausted. She thought that her fatigue was probably the result of finally being able to truly relax. After sending her chamber maids away, Brienne meant only to stretch out on the soft cushioned bed and rest for a moment. She wanted to join Jaime and Tyrion, and see to Galladon. However, the bed was so welcoming, and her body was still so stiff and sore from lying for days in the wagon, that she soon fell into a deep sleep.

In her slumber, Brienne’s still troubled mind played cruel tricks on her. Her nightmares returned. She saw herself walking through the lush halls of Casterly Rock. She was searching, searching for Jaime. Searching for Galladon. Somewhere in the distance her baby was crying. In her dream, Brienne’s mind grew frantic as the babe’s wail continued to become more distant. What had she been she thinking allowing Jaime to bring them here? If they could not have gone to Evenfall, she should have insisted that Jaime see them North to Winterfell. The Rock was Cersei’s home. Could it be she had been correct all along? Was the Queen trying to take her child, and worse was Jaime helping her? She began to run toward Galladon’s voice. Whoever had him as moving, away from her. Suddenly she was in the courtyard. Brienne gasped and her heart crashed to a pit in her stomach as she saw Cersei there seated on horseback, Galladon in her arms. Brienne could not breath when she realized Jaime sat his mount beside the Queen, regal in his golden armor. “No!” Brienne’s dream self screamed. “Please, do not take him!” She begged. She tried to run toward them but her feet moved as if through mud. Jaime and Cersei turned and laughed at her. Then they leaned together and shared a passionate kiss. Brienne was running as hard as she could. Her heart was pounding, but she was not moving. They laughed at her again, before riding their horses through the gates and disappearing into the darkness, just as Jaime had done when she watched him leave Winterfell. This time, they were taking not only Jaime’s love from her, but her child as well. “No!” She heard herself echo in her dreams. Just before one of Cersei’s guards thrust his sword into her heart.

Brienne woke with a start unable to breathe, but gasping for air. She struggled to pull her mind from the darkness in which it felt a though she were drowning. She looked down. No sword protruded from her chest. She patted the front of her tunic to be certain. Reality slowly came back to her as she began to realize that her terror of a few moments before had been only a dream. She peered around her, trying to orient herself. She was in the chambers Tyrion had readied for her at Casterly Rock. Brienne looked up urgently at the windows. The sky was growing dark outside. It had been hours that she had slept. Galladon? Where was her child? She remembered that Jaime had taken their son to visit with Tyrion. Then she remembered the terror of her nightmare. What if her fears of moments before had not been so far fetched. Where was Jaime? Where was her baby? 

Brienne bolted from the bed. She sprang to the door. Her heart was racing. Her head spinning. Surely, she was wrong. It had only been a bad dream. Flinging the door open, Brienne was ready to sprint down the hallway, screaming for Galladon. Before she realized it, she was face to face with Jaime, nearly slamming full on into the wall of his chest. He was returning to her chambers, and just reaching for the doorknob. For an instant she stared at him in disbelief. Then she saw the loving look on his face, and a fussing Galladon in his arms. Her mind relaxed, but it took a while for her heart and her breathing to follow. Jaime became alarmed at her distress.

He quickly wrapped his arm around Brienne as she took Galladon from his grasp. “Forgive my, My Love.” He apologized, smiling adoringly. “I did not mean to be gone so long from you.” He kissed her temple, and held her close.

Brienne’s grip on him was as if she were drowning. He stepped back from her, and saw the terror in her eyes. He noticed the relief with which she regarded their infant son. Then, peering over her shoulder, Jaime looked deeper into the chambers and noticed the rumpled sheets on the bed. “You’ve had another nightmare.” He confirmed, worry settling over his face. She had been plagued by horrible dreams the entire time they had traveled. He had hoped the security of reaching their destination would ease her sleep. He realized he had been wrong.

Brienne held her child close to her, and tried to calm her breathing. She did not want to alarm Jaime, and she felt foolish at the troubling degree to which her dream had upset her. It had shown such a dire scene that her body had instinctively reacted. Her voice refused to leave her throat. There was no need for her to speak. Jaime knew he was correct. He took her softly by the waist and seated her gently on a brocade settee near the door. He perched beside her, hoping he could shield her from her fears.

“What was it?” He beseeched her. Brienne shook her head, not wanting to tell him.

“It was Cersei.” Jaime conjectured. Brienne nodded, still nearly speechless.

“Tell me what happened. Please.” He squeezed her hands reassuringly.

Brienne’s tears began to fall, remembering the horror her mind had shown her. “I couldn’t find him.” Her hand in Jaime’s trembled as she gazed protectively down at their child. “She was here. She took him.” Brienne sobbed. She did not tell Jaime that he had been there in her dream as well, nor did she mention that he was with Cersei.

“Please believe me. You are safe here. She cannot hurt you, either of you.” Jaime brought Brienne’s hand close to his heart.

“I want to.” Brienne confessed. “I want to believe you.” Although Brienne tried to sound brave, the quiver in her voice gave her away as anything but fearless. She gazed at him, but could not hide her sadness. “My heart is ready, but my mind still dreads what Cersei could do to us.” She confessed.

In her arms, Galladon began to cry. Brienne realized how late the hour was becoming, and that her son had been away from her for longer than usual. She untied the neck of her tunic and began to nurse her hungry infant. Brienne hoped the bond she shared with her child would relax her and alleviate her uneasiness. She tried to feel Jaime’s words deep within herself, but she could not keep the fear from returning. Her eyes conveyed the uncertainty she could not tell him. Jaime moved closer to her, and brought her face to his.

“I should have known you would not be completely comfortable here.” He admonished himself, leaning his forehead against hers.

Brienne nodded bashfully. “I did not realize how much I would feel it here.” She was almost talking to herself.

“What is it that you sense?” Jaime asked comfortingly.

She cast her eyes down, not wanting to give voice to her terrifying thoughts. After another encouraging squeeze from Jaime’s fingers, Brienne spoke nearly at a whisper. “This was her home. Cersei’s.” She confessed, mournfully.

Jaime breathed deep. He had not realized that Brienne would feel his evil sister’s presence so strongly at Casterly Rock. It had been years since Cersei had set foot in their ancestral home. She had been far more concerned about her royal duties in Kings Landing than anything regarding the West. With Tyrion now Lord, Cersei would never make an attempt here. He was far too powerful, and had garnered too much support from the Lannister bannermen in the Westerlands, for her to think she would meet anything but armed resistance. Tyrion had almost managed to pull off a minor coup. All he need do was to declare the West independent, as Sansa Stark had done in the North, and Cersei would have no power here. Ever pragmatic, however, Tyrion did not believe in burning bridges that could be useful later. So, he kept the Westerlands aligned with the Crown, if only in name. It was Tyrion who held the real power here, not Cersei.

“Cersei will never set foot on The Rock again.” Jaime assured Brienne. “She will never send her forces here. She will never try to get to you here.” He swore.

“How can you be sure?” Brienne raised her deep blue eyes to meet Jaime’s gaze. They made his heart melt.

“There is not a single house loyal to her in all of the Westerlands.” Jaime explained, hoping it would ease Brienne’s mind. “Their fealty is sworn to Tyrion.” He continued. “Everyone thinks my sister’s dislike of our brother is due to hatred.” Jaime recounted. “It is not.” He declared.

“Why then is their such bad blood between the two of them?” Brienne wondered.

“Cersei fears Tyrion.” Jaime revealed. “He is different. He is smart. She cannot manipulate Tyrion, and she can not control him.” Jaime stared, almost proudly,yet tinged with regret he had allowed Cersei that power over his own life.

“With all of the scheming and back alley alliances Tyrion has made, he is owed favors all over Westeros. In reality Tyrion is more powerful than she is. Cersei knows that.” Jaime felt Brienne relax a little as he spoke.

“She also knows that Tyrion would would not hesitate to order her death. That is why he stays here, where he is protected, and why she will not come near.” Jaime affirmed. “No matter how much Cersei wants to take revenge upon you, and me, she wants to live even more. Tyrion is a threat to her, and one which she cannot touch. That will stop her from coming anywhere near us.” He smiled encouragingly at Brienne.

“Casterly Rock is no longer her home.” Jaime swore, looking defiantly at Brienne and Galladon. “It is yours.” He beamed. Brienne rewarded his oath with a grateful smile.

Brienne finished feeding Galladon, and settled him in her arms. She watched him adoringly for a moment. There was something about his tiny head nestled against the light blue of her tunic that reminded her how much she wished they could be on Tarth. The thought troubled her as she wondered again what her father’s reaction would be to the child. A shadow of apprehension passed over her features. Only moments ago she had been relieved at Jaime’s reassurance of her place at Casterly Rock. Now she wondered if there would be a place for her still at Evenfall. Jaime noticed the change in her.

“There is something else?” He pressed, wanting nothing to cause her distress.

Brienne’s face grew wistful, before dissolving into tears once more. “I wish my father could see him.” She acknowledged. “He does not even know if I am alive or dead. He does not know I have given him an heir.” She sighed sadly.

Jaime smiled happily, eager to provide Brienne anything. “We will send word to Evenfall.” He grinned. “We will tell the Evenstar of our happy news.” He brushed the thin curls atop their sons head.

Brienne suddenly looked stricken. “Oh please. Do not.” She begged.

Jaime’s expression conveyed his confusion. “Why?” He questioned. “He is your father. He should know you have blessed him with a grandchild.” He smiled hopefully.

Brienne’s reaction did not change. She almost squirmed, imagining her father’s contempt. She lowered her eyes as she answered, speaking haltingly. “My father has very strong views of propriety.” Brienne explained. She paused for a moment choosing her words carefully. “I fear he may not accept our child.” She grieved.

Jaime understood immediately. “Because our son was born out of wedlock.” He inferred.

Brienne nodded. “I want to introduce him to Galladon in person.” She told Jaime. “Once he sees our precious boy, surely my father could not deny him.” She hoped.

Jaime kissed Brienne’s forehead, and nestled a now sleeping Galladon’s head in his palm. “I promise you.” He began. “Once it is safe for us to travel to Tarth, we will take our son to meet his Grandfather at Evenfall.” Jaime assured her. He looked proudly at both of them. “I dare Lord Selwyn to find any fault with our beautiful child.” He blustered. “I am sure the Evenstar will fall as desperately in love with him as we are.” He smiled at Brienne, and found he had calmed her, as she reclined against his shoulder. She returned his thoughts with a loving look, and rested her hand atop his over the crown of their darling babe’s head.

Feeling Brienne’s fear assuaged for now, Jaime sealed his vow with a kiss. Unable to deny himself the taste of her lips any longer, he leaned in and pressed his hungry mouth to hers. She answered his call with equal intensity. They felt the fear in which they had lived for so long pouring from them like the smoke from a heavy fire, and dissipating on the breeze. The memory of how he had longed for Brienne since he left her at Winterfell rested upon Jaime’s mind. If he did not know better, he would have sworn this was another of his dreams. The dreams that had sustained him while he was parted from her. Those in which he had lost himself because he could not be with her. They were the only things that had kept him sane. The feel of her, the presence of her, reassured him that she was now finally real. Brienne was in his arms and he would never let her go. He came alive in her embrace. He breathed her in. He was a man being born again.

Brienne’s heart raced, and her fingers trembled as she rested them softly against Jaime’s jaw. For so long she had been afraid. She had lived in terror in the Red Keep’s dungeon. She had known what it meant to shutter with dread, to live everyday believing it was her last. What she felt now, the reason she quivered was not from fear. It was exhilaration that drove her. She allowed herself to hope, to begin to picture a life together with Jaime and their child. She felt like she could breathe again, at last. Brienne melted into his passionate kisses. He tasted sweeter than berry wine. His arms around her were stronger than Valerian steel. His nearness, and the certainty of him was more eternal to her than the very Heavens themselves. It had taken months, but he had returned to her. Just as she had hoped he would come riding back to her in the courtyard at Winterfell. So much had happened since then, so much that tried to steal her affection for him, her belief in him. None of it had succeeded. Now in his arms, secure in Jaime’s love, the embodiment of their love cradled in her arms, Brienne felt as though she were being reborn.

Jaime reluctantly broke from their impassioned kiss. His gaze searched Brienne’s face, concern for her glowing in his eyes. An unspoken need between them, that both understood. “Can you?” He questioned.

Brienne nodded silently, her stare heavy with desire. “It has been weeks since I gave birth.” She whispered. “My bleeding has stopped.” She told him.

“Do you feel alright?” Jaime asked her, his breath already coming in hot spurts.

Brienne shook her head. “No.” She quipped. “I feel as though I may burst if we do not share ourselves soon.” She grinned mischievously at her joke, her body already on fire for him.

“Well.” Jaime feigned seriousness. “We cannot have that.” He stole another quick kiss. “That would make a terrible mess.” He joined her in the jest.

“Won’t Lord Tyrion be expecting us for dinner?” Brienne offered, only mildly concerned, as she met Jaime’s reaching lips.

“Tyrion can wait.” Jaime declared, exploring Brienne’s lips with his own, yearning to go further.

At that moment, Galladon, still asleep and nestled in his mother’s arms, squirmed trying to settle himself. Jaime and Brienne drew in a collective gasp, hoping their son would not choose that moment to wake. They watched, not daring to move, as the tiny babe yawned, and nuzzled further into Brienne’s arms. His slumber uninterrupted.

“Perhaps he could manage in his own bed, for a while.” Jaime suggested, hopefully.

Brienne nodded. “I am sure he will fine there.” She smiled seductively at the boy’s father.

Jaime helped Brienne to stand with their little bundle in her arms. His hand never left her as he followed them into the little nursery just off the main sleeping chamber. The warm fire still burned in the hearth, and the room looked inviting, perfect for their child to rest. Brienne kissed the baby’s head, and laid him on the soft linens of the bassinet. Galladon stretched, yawned again, and wiggled himself into a deep sleep. As they stood there for a moment, watching their child sleep, Jaime rested his arms around Brienne’s waist, pulling her to him. Their faces shared the same love and pride as they regards their infant.

Soon, Jaime could wait no longer. He worked his hand into the hem of Brienne’s tunic, and glided his fingers enticingly up the length of her torso to her soft full breast. He tickled, and squeezed slowly forcing a breathy gasp from Brienne’s throat. She leaned her head back against his, arching her back in anticipation, her movements begging him to explore further. As if their skin comprehended the meaning behind each other’s movements, Jaime let his hand return along the path it had climbed, to where he slowly loosened the string at the waist of Brienne’s britches. Nudging the fabric aside, he reached further. His fingers played within the soft curls between her legs, and teased the nerves at the front of her velvety folds. He felt the tremor of excitement that ran along her spine as his fingers reached deeper. He could feel that she was already wet with need for him. He smiled luxuriously to himself. This would not be like the way he was with her at Winterfell. This time he would be slow, gentle, and he would savor every moment of her return to him.

Knowing it would drive her wild, Jaime withdrew his fingers from Brienne’s clothing. She turned, giving him a hopeful pout. Softly he took her hand in his and led her from their son’s nursery. Remembering how she had enjoyed the warmth of the firelight upon her skin, he guided her to stand near the hearth. He stared at the majesty of her. The dim glow played along Brienne’s features and skimmed her outline. She seemed an angel as she stared at Jaime, wide eyed with yearning. There was no awkwardness between them, as when they had stood in her chamber after the feast at Winterfell, Jaime fumbling with the ties of his tunic. Now, there movements were timed perfectly to the beating of each other’s heart. Jaime reached out and took Brienne’s hand, trying to calm himself. The feel of her had its desired effect upon him. He stared at her and breathed deeply. Then he brought her to him and feasted upon her lips once more.

Brienne closed her eyes and drifted away into the feel of his kiss upon her mouth. She parted her lips, and moaned softly at the prospect of what they were to share as their tongues played together in the warm wetness of their jaws. Jaime took a long time to undo the neck of her tunic. Brienne did not help him, as she had done the first time they had lain together. She realized that this time was so different than the way they had been. At Winterfell Jaime had been frantic, so had she. They had treated that night like two lovesick adolescents, fearful of being caught. They had grabbed, and grasped, and prodded. They tried to devour each other. It had felt like they were trying to hold on while they could, afraid of what the morning would bring. This was so much more. Now, they regarded each other as the rare treasure for which each had searched their entire life. They understood that they were meant to be together from the first moment they had laid eyes upon each other. What they had was not simply physical. It was spiritual. It was good and pure, and eternal. There was no need to rush.

Jaime kissed Brienne long and slow. She met him with a deep assuredness. She was not timid. He was not forceful. When their breath failed, they stared at each other, ready and needful. Jaime carefully lifted Brienne’s tunic over her head and let it flutter to the floor behind her. She stood confidently before him as his hands explored the plains of her body. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her toward him. His mouth traced the curve of her neck and sucked the bear-scarred dip of her collar bone, as she took her turn slowly removing his garments. Brienne did not bother with his tunic. She was well aware of what she wanted. Her fingers went deftly to the drawstring of his trousers. She loosened them, and pulled the fabric softly down around his hips. Her chest heaving with lustful sighs as she felt his kisses trailing down her breasts. He reached her sensitive nipples, already tender from feeding their babe. His mouth formed around them, moving from one to the other, licking and nibbling and sucking. Her hand slid the rest of the way down the front of his britches and found her prize. He was already erect and hard with need for her. She grasped his long thick cock in her fingers and began to work him gently, sliding her hand up and down his smooth shaft. She felt him shudder with pleasure at her touch.

His mouth stayed greedily upon her breasts. His sucking grew stonger. Brienne pulled him away from her urgently. “My milk. Remember?” She warned.

Jaime lifted his head and smiled wickedly at her, already licking his lips of the tiny taste he managed to enjoy. “I want all of you.” He told her, and quickly returned to kissing and sucking her hard nipples. The warm sweet milk with which she nourished their son teased his tongue and trickled down his throat. He had never tasted anything so divine. The sensation of her breasts in his mouth, and the feel of her hand stroking his cock drove him for more. Brienne let her head fall back, reveling in the feel of his mouth on her. A warm rush flowed between her legs at the thought of him inside her.

Jaime used his good hand to disrobe Brienne of her britches and small cloth. She marveled at how adept his motions were. He stood back to admire her, gloriously naked before him. He wanted to fall to the ground and worship her. However, it was Brienne who knelt. She remembered the first time, at Winterfell, that Jaime had instructed her in how to pleasure him with her mouth. She had felt nervous, and fearful, afraid that she would find the act disgusting and he would be disappointed. She soon found, however, that sucking his cock aroused her as much as it did him. Now, there was no timidity in her actions. She wanted it. She needed to taste the salty smoothness of his skin, and hear his moans of pleasure as she worked him with her tongue.

She grasped him firmly in her palm, and exhaled her hot breath over his cock. Holding him barely away from her lips, she teased him, reaching in, taking his tip in her mouth and then pulling back. He smiled at her playfulness, and ran his fingers softly through her hair. She licked him, captivated him with kisses, and then finally took the whole of him in her mouth. He let his head fall backward at the thrill she created in him, and groaned his approval. She sucked him hard, and slid her moist lips forward and backward over him, playing with her tongue over the ridges and plains of his cock. Her hand moved along him, to accentuate the sensation. Brienne moaned with delight, as she touched herself.

“Oh Gods.” Jaime hissed, as he watched her. She was the most captivating woman he had ever known. He would need to be inside her soon. He peeled off his own tunic in readiness for her.

Brienne was careful not to take him too far. She wanted to enjoy so much more. Just when she thought he could take no more, she slid her mouth from his cock and stood to face him. The expression of sheer rapture on Jaime’s face made her smile. He stared at her. Gods, she was beautiful. She truly was. He could not imagine ever think any other woman could be more glorious than she. He took her waist once more in his grasp and pulled her softly to him. He kissed her as if he had been separated from her for too long. She met him with impassioned delight, hungry for him as well. Gently, Jaime gathered Brienne in his arms, and carried her to the bed, his lips never leaving hers.

He nestled her into the softness of the bed linens, and brought his weight carefully down atop her. Brienne gasped at the feel of him of his skin on hers. They shared another wanting kiss as he lifted his weight upon his stumped elbow, and trailed his other hand down her abdomen. Her hips pulsed sharply with anticipation as he reached between her legs and fondled her soft folds. She leaned her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes with a low throaty sigh as she rocked against him. Jaime continued his search, as their tongues played against each other in the darkness. Brienne breathed her panting cries into his mouth. His touch upon her private skin set her senses ablaze. She opened her legs wide, granting him the access he sought. Through their kiss, he smiled at her as he found her deliciously wet. She clung to his biceps, and pushed herself to him. His touch played in the warmth of her delicate folds, searching for the spot he knew would drive her wild. He found it and worked it hard, enjoying the pleasure he was giving her. She could barely breathe, and her voice sputtered from her throat as shallow whines through her open lips.

“Tell me if it hurts.” Jaime whispered. He was unsure how Brienne’s body would react after giving birth to their child, and having been so long since they had made love. He would not allow any discomfort to mar their time together. He would wait if she needed him to.

“It’s alright.” She smiled at his caring. Her eyes pleaded with him to continue.

Jaime’s fingers traveled further between Brienne’s legs, and he lightly traced the source of the delightful flow that beckoned him. Softly, he reached deep inside her. He was rewarded with her sharp cry of pleasure. It told him to continue, to go deeper. He circled his fingers, and stretched his knuckles against the walls of her. He marveled that this was the path through which she had brought their child into the world. She arched her back and gasped in time to his motions. His every move eliciting a glorious symphony from her. She stared deeply into his eyes, and her face froze in a lovely mask of pure ecstasy as she came for him. Her glorious wetness cascading over his hand. He drew his fingers from within her and licked them clean. Savoring the flavor of her.

Jaime watched her with the most sublime look on his face. As she returned from her orgasm, he silently questioned her again. Brienne nodded enticingly. They were ready. They were both so ready.

He rested his full weight upon her, his cock nestled against her threshold. She felt him hard between her legs and beckoned him with a warm wet flow. He accepted her invitation and thrust his throbbing hardness inside her, drawing in a long fervent breath. She answered his call with a deep wanting moan. The sound of her excited him and drove him even deeper. Brienne’s lusty gasps told him is it was exactly what she wanted. She wrapped her arms around his waist and drew him even close. Jaime advanced into her, and withdrew, slowly at first. Her hot breath on his neck urged him on and he quickened his movements. Her pleasured sighs became urgent wails as he thrust his solid cock deeper into her and retreated, thrust and retreated, again and again, deeper and harder each time. Her velvet sheath tightened around him as he pushed further, groaning in pleasure. Needing more of her, he brought her legs up around him. She dug her fingers into his back, as her spine arched in uncontrollable pleasure. He moaned at the sweet pain her nails gave him. Brienne trailed her hands down him, and pulled him toward her as she squeezed his tight buttocks, driving him even deeper. The waves of passion they rode were longer and higher, and crashed over them harder than they had ever done at Winterfell. This was what real love felt like. This was the pure reality of forever. They grasped onto it like a lifeline.

Finally he could fight his body no longer. He needed to release the sublime pressure she had caused in him. He started to pull himself from her, and she stopped him. “No. Please.” She begged. “I want to feel you come inside me.” She told him, her eyes so filled with love that he could deny her nothing.

He thrust once more, and felt himself give way. He could feel her body shudder with another orgasm. He needed to fill her. She raised her hips to receive what he gave. Groaning with the force of their final onslaught, the sounds of their ecstasy escaping their lips, they climaxed together staring into each other’s eyes.

Catching their breath, and reveling in what they had just shared, Brienne and Jaime reluctantly brought themselves back to reality. They would have been happy to stay forever in the passionate world they had created between them, but both smiled at the thought of returning later. Jaime nestled down close to Brienne on the soft mattress, his arm wrapped around her waist. He held her to him as if they were one. She turned on her side to face him, wrapping her leg around his hip, her hand stroking his heaving chest.

“Oh Gods!” Jaime swore to Brienne. “I love you.” His adoring gaze made her feel that she was the only woman in the world, the only woman with whom he had ever shared his passion. How could he impart to her that was exactly how he was feeling. It had never been like this with Cersei. His heart had never soared the way it did now with her. There had never truly been love. He understood now, that Brienne was the only woman who had ever captured his heart. He leaned to Brienne and kissed her again, deeply and passionately. When they parted, he realized there were tears falling upon her cheeks.

He raised himself to view her more fully. “What is it, My Love?” He asked. “Did I hurt you?” His heart suddenly seized with worry.

Brienne returned his adoring gaze, and shook her head, trying to sniff away her crying. “No. “She assured him. “You did not hurt me at all.” She smiled. “So far from it.” Her face was so filled with unconditional love that Jaime had to catch his breath. No one had ever looked at him like that before. “I love you, too.” Brienne breathed, caressing his cheek.

They held each other and rested in their love while the world went on without them for a while. Brienne watched the rapturous smile on Jaime’s face settle into a giddy grin as he continued to find new angles in which to stroke and fondle her naked body. She chuckled to herself, thinking how wonderful it was to see him relaxed and at ease. Her giggle rousted him from his self musings on her perfection.

“What?” He laughed, a bit shocked, wondering what she could find so humorous.

Brienne’s face was warm and delighted as she beheld him. “It just seems that you are enjoying being home.” She burrowed closer to him. “You are relaxed, happy.” Brienne described. “I like to see it.” She smiled.

Jaime turned to her and stared deeply into her eyes. His face suddenly becoming serious. He moved his hand to gently hold her face. “My Darling.” He said solemnly. “I have been home for weeks.” He told Brienne softly. She looked at him quizzically. He seemed almost shocked that she did not realize his meaning. “I found my way home the day you were brought into the throne room of the Red Keep. The day I found you again.” His lips touched her forehead softly. “You are my home. You and Galladon.” He vowed, his mouth moving lower and resting upon hers. Brienne inhaled his breath, felt warmed by the feel of his skin on hers, and lost herself in his kiss.

As they brought their gazes up to meet one another, and laid their heads back down onto the pillows, their was a knock at the door. Brienne’s expression was shocked, and she seemed mortified as she tried to hide from whomever was at the door by tunneling further under the sheet. Jaime laughed and bent to lay one more kiss upon her cheek.

“Brienne, why do you hide?” Jaime quipped. “We have a child together.” His smile beamed. “Everyone in this place knows what we do behind the privacy of our closed door.” He pinched her reddening cheek, amused at how adorably virtuous she was. Rising from their bed, he wrapped only a sheet around his hips and held it in place with his good hand, not worried in the least about the opinions of others. “And if they don’t, well, they had better get use it. Because I have no intention of stopping this.” He lean across the bed and plucked one more token from her lips. Brienne laughed and relaxed against the pillows.

Jaime padded to the door and opened a space between the panel and the frame just wide enough to peer through. He looked back at a Brienne in glorious surprise upon spying what was on the other side, and opened the door wider. The two chamber maids who had earlier helped Brienne with her bath bashfully wheeled in a cart laden with a sumptuous feast.

“Compliments of Lord Tyrion, Ser.” One of the girls announced, her eyes never leaving the floor in reaction to her master standing before them wearing only a thin bed linen. Brienne returned Jaime’s gleeful smile, but felt embarrassed for the poor maids.

“My brother thinks of everything.” Jaime declared. He knew Tyrion had realized his and Brienne’s wish to be alone during their first night free from the worries of their travels.

“Shall we serve you, Ser?” The other, even more timid maid offered. Her gaze also cast to the floor.

“No. That will be all.” Jaime answered. “You girls run along. We will see to ouselves.” His eyes never left Brienne.

The maids curtsied and quickly left the room. Once the door was closed, the happy couple dissolved into laughter. Upon hearing his parent’s glee, Galladon woke from his nap and fussed for his mother, and his dinner. Hearing his son’s need, Jaime quickly tucked the sheet he wore securely at his waist and hurried to see to the babe, as Brienne’s eyes followed his form thoroughly enjoying the view.

Jaime gathered Galladon in his arms, and kissed his soft cheek as he brought their infant to Brienne. She reached up to receive the kiss she knew Jaime would give her as he laid their child in her arms. He did not disappoint. She lowered the sheet that covered her, and exposed her breasts to nurse Galladon. It was Jaime’s turn to enjoy the view. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her, taking in the precious sight of his little family. Brienne’s smile upon him was like the starlight which lit the night sky. He marveled to think she was his. He reveled in the fact that he was hers. He watched her nourishing their child, the firelight from across the room throwing shadows upon her creamy skin. He could already feel his need for her taking hold of him once more.

“Let me prepare a plate for you.” He offered sweetly. “Then we can enjoy some more dessert.” He teased suggestively. Brienne answered him with the most beautifully seductive look he had ever beheld.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although his purpose this time is meant to ensure their life together, Brienne is heartbroken as Jaime prepares to return once again to Kings Landing.

They had been at Casterly Rock for a fortnight. Brienne slowly began to relax into a stable and gracious way of life. Her days were filled with caring for Galladon. Her nights were filled with Jaime. They enjoyed a quiet, almost leisurely pattern to their days. There were strolls through the gardens, lounging on the shaded patios that opened to vast ocean vistas, and laughing together watching their son explore a world ever new to him. Evenings saw lavish dinners, and gazing at each other in the firelight, while their the nights were filled with endless love making. Brienne could nearly manage to forget the ordeal through which she had suffered. She almost began to imagine that nothing in the entire world could ever threaten them. Then she would remember that all they did was kept safely within the confines of the walls of the ancient fortress.

Tyrion had sent word to the Starks of Brienne’s deliverance from Cersei’s dungeon. “A raven just arrived from Winterfell.” He told Brienne one morning. “Queen Sansa writes that she is overwhelmed with joy and relief that you have been returned to us.” He relayed. “She also sends her most heartfelt congratulations on the birth of your son.” He smiled. Brienne felt tears glistening in her eyes at the thought of her duties in the North, cut short by her captivity. She missed Sansa, and she missed the feeling of service. She grinned and tried to hide her tears from Jaime, but he saw them, and they nearly broke him.

One beautiful afternoon, Brienne mentioned her wish take Galladon on a walk by the surf, as she would if they were on Tarth. Her face saddened at the realization of the impossibility of her hope. They could be ambushed even so close to The Rock, and although the chance was small, it was a risk neither she nor Jaime were willing to take. He smiled apologetically, as he kissed her temple and quickly changed the subject, trying to offer a pleasing alternative for the afternoon. Brienne looked embarrassed, she did not want him to think her dissatisfied by her refuge. She quickly accepted his suggestion for a picnic in the terraced yards overlooking The Sunset sea. Jaime tried his best to hide his remorse, but he knew he could not ask Brienne and their son to live a life cloistered away from the rest of the world forever.

Brienne’s nightmares did not worsen during this time. However, they became no better. She continued even now, though wrapped safely in Jaime’s arms, to awaken terrified by the visions of harm that plagued her sleep. He would hold Brienne as she cried, and bring their son to her, trying desperately to reassure the woman he loved. Eventually, she would drift back into a fitful sleep. Jaime would lie beside her, his thoughts filled with bitter hatred at the monster who had forced those vivid images into Brienne’s brain. He used those moments to cement his designs for Cersei’s death firmly into a flawless plan. He saw his every movement through the shadows of the Red Keep, along the halls that would finally lead him to his freedom. Over and over again, he visualized the actions he would take. He was ready, and the time had come.

Finally, came the moment, Jaime had dreaded. He could delay no longer. “I need to speak with you.” He turned solemnly to Brienne as they sat on a bench near a garden fountain late one afternoon.

Galladon had been fussy all that day, almost as if he could sense his father’s apprehension. Brienne did what she could to calm her son, however, nothing seemed to truly settle him. As Jaime spoke, Brienne brought her attentions from their child in her arms, to Jaime’s adoring face. “What is it?” She asked. His tone brought concern to her gaze.

Jaime took her hand, and stared deep into Brienne’s eyes for a long moment. He stroked back a strand of sunny hair that had fallen across her face. Then, suddenly, he could not bare to look at the shining adoration he found as he beheld her. He turned to stare at some point across the stoney paths which he did not truly see. “I have to go back.” His voice was nearly a whisper.

Brienne’s heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach. Her arms went numb, and she struggled to keep her grip on Galladon. All of the color drained from her face. She swallowed the acid that was seeping up into her throat. “You are going back?” She repeated, unsure of what she had heard. Jaime dropped his chin remorsefully. He could almost hear Brienne’s heart breaking. He nodded slowly and sorrowfully.

“Back to Cersei.” It was not even a question as it left Brienne’s lips. She voiced her suspicion as if she was certain.

Jaime twisted his entire body to her, desperate to make her understand. “Not back to be with Cersei.” He corrected. “I am going back to kill Cersei.” He explained. He realized that Brienne’s fingers were still clasped tightly in his own. He held firmly to them, hoping to make her understand.

Brienne looked down at her infant. He had finally quieted, and was nestled so blissfully unaware against her. “Why?” She shook her head, trying to send Jaime’s words away. “You said we were safe here.” Her eyes questioned him desperately.

Jaime nodded. “You are.” He agreed reassuringly, and then looked at their son’s innocent face. “But I fear that within these walls is the only place you will ever be free from Cersei’s wrath.” He lamented. “I am not sure you could ever leave.” He shook his head, his tears mounting to match hers. “Either of you. Not while Cersei lives.” He admitted.

Brienne sniffed, and nodded her understanding. “Then we will stay shielded here.” She affirmed, even as she understood how difficult that would be.

Jaime tried to give her an understanding smile. “For the rest of your lives?” He acknowledged, unwilling to ask her to do such a thing. “What about all you would be missing? Surely there are people you want to see? What about Queen Sansa?” He offered.

“She of all people would understand.” Brienne answered, remembering how much safer and stronger Sansa felt within the walls of Winterfell.

Jaime sadly peered down at Galladon resting in Brienne’s loving embrace. “What about all the things he will not get to do?” He questioned. “We wanted to take him to Tarth.” Jaime reminded her. Brienne closed her eyes, imagining the full life her child would not enjoy. “What about your father?” Jaime knew she could not deny that she would miss him most of all. The Evenstar deserved to know his grandson.

“Casterly Rock has been your sanctuary.” Jaime stated, trying to comfort her. “I will not allow it to become your prison. I will not let Cersei hold you hostage yet again.” He vowed. “Regardless of how luxurious the cell, that is no life for you.” He told her, and frowned as he regarded their child. “That is no life for him.” Jaime declared, watching Galladon proudly. He hoped Brienne would understand his logic.

Brienne considered Jaime’s reasoning. Her heart ached to think of him leaving. How could she watch him go, again. Something deep inside her that still stung with hurt and bitterness feared that his plan would not end as he thought. It was her turn to stare into the distance, for she could not meet his gaze. “You’re not coming back.” She announced as if she were already certain, her tone emotionless. She slipped her fingers from his.

Jaime could not bear the dread in Brienne’s prediction. “Of course I will come back to you.” He took her elbows and brought her around to face him. “Nothing will stop me.” He swore. “It will be but a few weeks to travel there and back. I will take her head, and be on my way home to you before anyone knows I have been there.” He tried to give her a hopeful smile. “I got you here. No one will be a challenge to me in returning to you. I will cut down anyone who stands in my way.” Jaime told her, sure of his victory.

Brienne eyed him questioningly. “That is not what I fear.” She corrected, her breath surging from her lungs in shallow bursts. “I am certain no sword would be a match for you.” She answered.

“Then what is it, My Love?” He begged, searching her face.

Brienne wanted to sob into his neck, but her heart was so heavy with grief that she was now beyond the point of crying. “She will cast her spell upon you once more.” Jaime tried to protest, but Brienne continued. “No matter how much you want to return to us, you will stay with her.” She knew she did not need to tell him that it had happened before. “We will never see you again.” Her voice trailed off, unable to continue.

Jaime knew he had put that fear in Brienne’s heart. He had left her at Winterfell, even though she was the one he loved. He had allowed Cersei to come between them. “That will not happen, again.” He promised. “I was a fool to have ever left you.” He bemoaned. “If there were any other way, I would find it.” He shook his head. “She must die, for us to be truly safe. I should have killed her when I had the chance, the day we escaped.” He hung his head regretfully for a moment, and then raised his eyes again to her pain-filled face.

As he studied Brienne’s mournful expression, Jaime was the one who began to sob. “Please believe me, Brienne.” He beseeched. “I love you, and only you, with all of my heart.” He tried to bring her hand to his heart, but she pulled from his grasp. “You and our son are everything to me. You are the breath in my lungs, the very blood in my veins.” He beheld Brienne, his heart as pained as hers. “I will return to you. I swear it.” He pleaded urgently for her to believe him.

Brienne sighed heavily. The defeat in her face tore Jaime apart. There was nothing to be said. She stared ahead of her, as if not seeing him. She felt the world spinning beneath her feet as she rose, holding their child to her heart. She said not a single word. She did not bring her eyes to regard him. Heartbroken, she slipped past him and walked slowly back toward the castle, leaving Jaime where he sat in silence.

Jaime stayed in the garden for longer than he had planned. He could not move. He mourned how his failure to act and his actions of the past were hurting Brienne. Perhaps he had no right to hope that she would see his departure as anything but a betrayal. He knew that Cersei’s death was the only possible outcome of his returning to Kings Landing. He felt eager to have her out of their lives forever. He should have foreseen that his leaving would bring unwelcome specters to haunt Brienne’s mind, and cause her to question his commitment to their life together. He had left her before, and she had been put through the Hells. It had been his fault. This time, he would prove to Brienne that she was the most important thing in his life.  
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Hours had passed since they had sat in the garden, since Jaime had watched Brienne’s heartbreak as she confessed her worse fears to him, that he would not return. Brienne had disappeared into her chambers with Galladon, and had dissolved into tears. The sun went down, the dinner hour came and went, and still there was no sign that she would emerge from her hidden anguish. Jaime’s torment threatened to eat him alive. He could no longer endure being separated from her. He rushed to her door, only to find it locked, and unmoving.

Jaime knocked softly. He knew she would hear him. He waited, anxiously to see her loving face. He stood in the wide hallway, hopefully. There was no answer. Again, he rapped on the door, slightly louder this time. Still, Brienne did not come to see who was on the other side.

Jaime leaned his head against the door frame, and sighed sorrowfully. “Brienne.” He called. “Please, speak to me.” He implored. “Please let me in.” He sighed. He could not see her leaning against the other side of the door, tears steaming down her face, her crying muffled by the hand she pressed over her mouth. Jaime spent the night on the floor, huddled against the door of Brienne’s chamber, aching to hold her.  
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Early the next morning, as the sun rose in the sky, Jaime stood in the courtyard preparing for his fateful journey. He had harnessed the workhorse, which had so faithfully brought them to their safe haven, ahead of the sturdy little wagon that Aiken and Mary had insisted they take. He was grateful that it had provided the refuge that kept Brienne and their babe safe during their travel. As he buckled the leather riggings around the animal’s withers, Jaime’s mood was glum. He had not seen or spoken to Brienne before his departure as he had wanted. Again, she had refused to open her door to him.

Jaime did not know that Brienne had heard his farewell as he had spoken it through the door at dawn. He was unaware that even now she stood at a narrow window above the courtyard, their son enfolded in her arms, watching every move he made. She knew he would go, that nothing she could say would change his mind. She realized he was right, that Cersei had to be killed. They needed to have even the thought of her removed from their lives if they were ever to be truly happy. She worried that she had been too hard on Jaime for the choice he was making. She fought herself not to run to him. She wanted to bid the proper farewell he deserved from her. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, and feel herself safe in his embrace, perhaps for one last time.

It was her pride that kept Brienne from giving into the loving concern she felt for him. She doubted that Jaime had given heed to how difficult it might actually be for him to kill his own twin sister, especially given their history. Brienne knew it was the sibling bond which Jaime felt with Cersei, and not any love for her, that had kept him from taking the Queen’s life when he had rescued her from the Red Keep. She could not blame him, in a way. What if it were her own brother? What if he had lived and become a monster? What if she felt her only choice was to end his life? Could she really have done it?

Brienne knew Jaime assumed that he would feel nothing but relief at taking Cersei’s life, but she was not quite so sure. Brienne truly feared that the power his sister had always held over him would render Jaime not only unable to kill her, but unable to tear himself away from her as well. Her dread that he would once again fall under Cersei’s spell and break her heart was nearly paralyzing, and kept her from speaking to him since he had revealed his plan to her. Brienne knew that Jaime loved her, but he had loved her before, and he had left her. She had forgiven that, but she could not forget it, not now when he would leave again.

Brienne stared lovingly down into the face of her child. Galladon was wide awake, and grinning up at her. She marveled at his brilliant blue eyes that were so much like her very own. Her heart nearly broke at the rest of him which was so much like his father. At least she would now have that much. Brienne was still hurt and angry, she doubted she could yet bring herself to speak for long to her son’s father. Yet, she knew she had no right to keep Jaime’s son from him, not when this might be last moment they would see each other. She breathed deeply, swallowed her tears, and headed down the hallway toward the stairs.  
——————————  
“She won’t speak to me.” Jaime lamented to Tyrion who stood next to him, bidding his wishes for a safe and productive journey.

“I cannot blame her.” Tyrion thought compassionately about Brienne’s reactions to Jaime’s plan. “She is remembering what happened the last time you left her.” He explained.

“That was different.” Jaime corrected, eyeing Tyrion vehemently. He would forever torture himself on that particular subject. He did not need his brother bringing it up now.

“Not in her mind.” Tyrion answered thoughtfully. “She has been through an unimaginable trauma, Jaime.” He reminded his brother. “There is still a great deal with which she must come to terms. I imagine she will question much, and perhaps not feel completely healed for years.” Tyrion shook his head, wishing he could help Brienne in some way.

“But, I’ve told her I will come back to her this time. I swore it.” Jaime worried. “She knows I love her.” He asserted.

“Yes. She does.” Tyrion agreed. “That is not what troubles her. She is more hurt than angry, I would wager.” He told his brother, understandingly. “The pain of you leaving her, and all that came after, is still too raw.” Tyrion said, his eyes serious. He would find no sleepless nights over the death of their sister. She had certainly earned the fate that awaited her at the tip of Jaime’s blade. He wished he could drain her life himself. However he hoped Jaime would find it as easy as he thought it would be to take her life. “You need to prove to Brienne, with your actions, that your commitment to her and your child is unswerving.” Tyrion glared at Jaime, making sure he understood.

Jaime regarded Tyrion, his eyes deadly serious. “I swear that I will.” Jaime choked. “I will return to them, and when I do I will never leave them again.” He vowed.

Their serious conversation was interrupted by Podrick Payne who ran up to them, his face a study in solemn eagerness. “Ser Jaime.” He addressed the elder knight. “I wish you would reconsider and allow me to accompany you on your journey.” He offered, hopefully. Podrick had already pledged his services, but had found himself disappointed when Jaime denied his request.

Jaime looked proudly at him, but shook his head as he clamped the young man on the shoulder. “No. I cannot ask you to be part of what I must do.” Jaime replied gratefully. “I need to do this alone.” He could not allow Podrick to be associated with his treason. If they were captured, Pod would certainly be executed. “I need you here to watch over Ser Brienne and Galladon.” He smiled, knowing he was placing their safety into the right hands.

“Safe journey, then, Ser.” Podrick wished. His face serious. Jaime lowered his chin in a honored reply. Podrick nodded respectfully and moved away to allow Jaime and Tyrion their farewell.

It was then that Jaime saw Brienne emerging from the tall thick doors that led from the Great Hall. She held their son in her arms as she strode slowly toward them. Jaime could only stare, and hope she would at least allow him a kiss. Her expression, as she approached, told him that was perhaps too much to ask. She glared at him as Tyrion backed away to join Podrick. Jaime stood hopeful and terrified as she stopped before him.

“I’ve brought your son to say goodbye.” Brienne said cooly barely looking at Jaime. The utter finality in her tone was chilling.

He smiled nervously at her. She held Galladon out to him, but said nothing more. Jaime looked lovingly upon their child. He stroked his boy’s soft head, and played with the tiny fingers that reached for him. Jaime bent and kissed Galladon’s pink cheek. “I love you, My Son.” He said, overcome with emotion. “I will be back soon.” He promised, as he nuzzled the boys face with his.

He laid his forehead against the baby’s own for another moment, and then straightened to look into Brienne’s eyes. He could see the pain and fear that was plaguing her mind. It broke his heart. He wanted her to be assured that his absence from from her would not end the same as before, but he did not know how. Instead, he simply leaned in toward the angle of her jaw, just below her ear. He had not realized that it had become one of his favorite places to kiss her. He longed to press his lips against her creamy soft skin.

Brienne could barely look Jaime in the eye. She had allowed him the time with their son, but as he moved to kiss her she felt her anger take hold once more. Perhaps it was because he had not kissed her when he had left her at Winterfell, and she did not want to gift him with that affection now. It could have been that she could not bare to think it would be the last time she would feel his lips on her. Whatever the reason, Brienne drew back and turned away from him, not allowing him to touch her. Standing as tall and proud as she could muster, Brienne walked purposefully back into the sanctuary of Casterly Rock’s Great Hall. She would be damned if she would stand in another courtyard and beg him not to go.

Jaime’s heart fell as Brienne refused his kiss. He stood, wanting the ground to open and swallow him whole, watching the one he loved most in the world walk away from him. Taking his love and his soul with her. He closed his eyes tight with regret as he realized this was how she had felt when she watched him ride away from her in the night. He deserved every bit of her mistrust, and anger. He knew that. Jaime swore to himself that he would stop at nothing to restore Brienne’s faith and certainty in him.

“Take care of them.” Jaime begged Tyrion, who had returned to his brother’s side, as he watched Brienne disappear into the castle. “Protect them.” He implored.

Tyrion looked up at Jaime, a serious worried frown on his face. It was the first time he had heard his brother allude to any fear that he might not survive his journey. He understood that would mean death, for it was the only thing that would keep Jaime from Brienne. “I will. I swear it. With my own life.” Tyrion vowed, as Jaime climbed into the wagon.

Jaime started to raise the leather leads from the horse’s back, but stopped. He turned again to Tyrion with a serious scowl. “Tell Queen Sansa that if she wishes to take the Capital, she should have her troops at the gates of Kings Landing within a fortnight. I will not wait.” He knew that marching an army from the North to Kings Landing in that short a time would be a monumental task, but it could be done. Tyrion nodded his understanding.

Jaime turned, fixed his eyes upon the road ahead, and slapped the reigns to set the horse in motion. He clenched his jaw and fought the lump forming in his throat. The memory of the kiss that Brienne did not give him plagued his thoughts. He prayed a silent vow to the Seven that he would ride his horse through these gate in only a short while, returning to his family. Then he would collect that kiss. As Jaime guided the wagon over the drawbridge, it began to rain.  
——————————-  
That night, Brienne fell into a fitful sleep, her dreams accompanied by the ominous sound of the thunder that crashed outside. The storm had begun at midday, a few hours after Jaime had left, and had continued incessantly throughout the day and into the night. Brienne had never seen such a slow moving monster of a gale. Even the squalls that would blow in off the Narrow Sea and rage over Tarth and the Stormlands were not as perilous and alarming. Brienne had tossed and turned after she put a finally sleeping Galladon down in his bassinets. The cloud of worry that shrouded her face, soon became heavy sobs. She prayed that Jaime was unharmed as he rode through the night in the threatening weather. Her heart seized to think of how she had acted when he told he was leaving, and how she had treated him. He was risking his life to kill his own sister in order to ensure that she and their child would be safe, and she had barely spoken to him. Her arms ached to hold him. ‘The way I should have last night.’ Brienne thought to herself. Racked with guilt, Brienne cursed herself that she would not even give him the kiss he so desperately wanted, to send him off lovingly on his course. Why had she not at least said ‘Goodbye?” She tortured herself with regret. Brienne’s last thought, before she finally cried herself to sleep late in the night, was how terribly she hoped Jaime had found shelter.

Once more alone in the dark of night, the nightmares found Brienne. She was walking a few feet behind Jaime, following him, unseen and unheard. He lurked through the halls of the Red Keep, staying in the shadows, alert and on guard. Brienne moved as if in his footsteps, even her breathing seemed timed with his. However, she did not feel her body moving at all. ‘Jaime.’ She whispered his name almost at his ear, he made no sign that he heard her, but stopped in front of a pair of ornate doors and breathed in a deep steadying sigh. Innately, Brienne understood that beyond was Cersei’s chamber.

Jaime turned the doorknob. There was no sound. He entered the room stealthily, Brienne still on his heels. She caught her breath as she saw, across the room, Cersei standing at the large open window. The Queen’s back was to them but Brienne knew she was aware of their presence. She sensed Jaime tense in front of her, as if he were trying to shield her. He crept toward his sister, drawing his sword as swiftly and silently as a whisper. Brienne instinctively reached for Oathkeeper, but retrieved only a a handful of the thin bedshift she still wore. She remembered that her sword was lost to her. Her mind struggled for understanding, unable to comprehend how she had come to be there. Before she could react, Cersei turned, an evil grin spreading across her face.

“I knew you would be back.” The Queen announced venomously to Jaime.

Before he could react, Cersei raised Oathkeeper, Brienne’s own sword, from her skirts and shoved it into Jaime’s chest. Brienne’s screamed his name. Her shriek echoed off the walls, but the others did not react. Jaime fell backward against Brienne, and sputtered, the blood erupting from his wound and pouring almost immediately from the side of his mouth. He fell to the floor, his eyes a vacant stare.

“Jaime!” Brienne shouted again, crumpling to the stones beside him. She spread her hand across his chest, trying to stem the flow that was draining his life. “Jaime!” She cried. Brienne looked up hatefully at Cersei. The Queen’s devilish glare never left Jaime’s face.

Brienne turned back to Jaime and sobbed against his face. “Jaime. Please. Stay with me.” She begged. The way she had at Winterfell.

Finally he heard her. He lifted his blood covered fingers and caressed her cheek. She took his hand in hers, and held it to her heart. With a haunting smile, his life ebbed from him and he shut his eyes.

“Jaime!” Brienne screamed. “Jaime! Jaime!” Was the only word that could she could voice. Somewhere in the distance she heard a baby crying. Galladon!

Brienne’s eyes shot open. The dim light obscured her vision. She heard her babe wailing only a few paces from her. Her mind reached out into the darkness trying to make sense of the visions it had just shown her, trying to understand why and how she was suddenly back in the safety of her bed at Casterly Rock. Dry gasps rose from her throat, and she shook violently. With a a flash of realization, she understood that the images of Jaime’s death she had just seen were all a horrible dream. She lay stunned and helpless, as her eyes became accustomed to the low light of the smoldering fire. She felt the softness of the mattress upon which she lay, and the wet constricting sheets that had wrapped around her body. She forced the breath back into her lungs, and struggled to sit up. She was safe, Jaime had not been murdered, and her child needed her.

She climbed quickly and shakily from the tangled bed linens and made her way to the nursery where Galladon lay voicing his own terror at having been awakened from his sound sleep by his mother’s desperate screams. Still panting in shock, Brienne lifted her babe from his bassinet and held him close. He began to calm almost immediately once he was in her arms, as did she. Tears streaming down her face, Brienne clung to her child like a lifeline, her only connection to Jaime.

Against her will, however, Brienne’s memory showed her the remnants of the nightmare that had torn them from their sleep. Again she saw Jaime lying on the floor covered in his own blood, his eyes searching her face as she helplessly watched his life seep onto the stones. She could almost feel Cersei still standing over them. Overcome by fright, shock, and guilt, Brienne began to sob. She clutched Galladon to her, comforted by the feel of him near, her entire body aching to feel Jaime’s arms around her. Unable to control the tears that sprung from her eyes, Brienne sunk to the floor, rocking their child.

“I should have said goodbye.” She regretted as she wept. “I should have kissed you.” Brienne nearly screamed, hoping it would carry on the wind to the man she loved. “Oh, Jaime.” She cried, lost in fear and grief. She did not return to her bed. For the rest of the night, she sat by the fire holding desperately to their baby, and willing Jaime to return.  
——————————  
The day of his departure, Jaime traveled a great distance through the storms, only stopping to feed and water the horse. His journey continued much the same during the weeks that followed. He traveled again along the path that had taken him, Brienne, and their infant westward. He was able to drive the carriage with much more speed, now that he knew they were safe at Casterly Rock. Desperate to return to them, he remained careful, and alert, taking no chances.

He was leery at every turn, but knew he could easily defend himself and keep his pace steady. He noticed that while patrols did still pass his modest farm wagon, they were fewer and farther between. Cersei must have realized that with the passing of time, they had reached what she obviously knew was their destination. He knew her too well, however, to think she would simply give up on her revenge. Perhaps she knew he would be returning to Kings Landing. He hoped she expected him to come running to her begging forgiveness, the way he had before, and that she had not chosen to shield herself with the troops that had tracked him and Brienne.

So, unsure of what he would find when he reached the capital, Jaime continued on his path. Thoughts of Brienne were his constant companion along his way. His heart ached at the way she had looked at him when he left Casterly Rock. Her refusal to bid him farewell with a kiss, or even to speak to him cut Jaime like a blade. He understood where her reluctance to accept his plan came from. Some place deep inside her would not allow her to trust the promise he made to her. It was a deep pit he had placed within her. Never would he forgive himself for the hurt he had caused her.

As he drove over the rugged roads of Westeros toward his fateful rendezvous, Jaime dreamed of the day he would come riding back triumphantly through the gates of Casterly Rock, back to Brienne and their child. This final task of killing Cersei would be the last thing that would ever take him from Brienne’s side. He swore to himself that once he returned to her, he would never leave Brienne again.  
——————————-  
Brienne faced her waking hours as if in a daze. Her sleep was haunted by her nightmares. Rest would not find her, and her thoughts were filled with dread and terror for Jaime. Her mind still told her that she would never see him again, while her heart held onto the hope of him riding through the castle gates, returning to her this time. A few days after Jaime had left, Brienne strolled with Galladon along the corridors of Casterly Rock during the early hours of a foggy morning. Her face was drawn and tired, yet she gave her child a wide smile as he cooed and wriggled in her arms. She wondered, if Jaime did not return, how long their refuge would remain a safe haven. Brienne was already imagining plans to get her child and herself safely to Tarth if the need arose.

Lost in thought and still unfamiliar with the sprawling estate, Brienne mistook which hallway she had entered while looking for the library, and inadvertently opened the door to a large, lavish chamber. It was near the size of the rooms that were Jaime’s usual abode, but in which he had not stayed for a single night since they had arrived. The suite was sumptuous and feminine. There were large doors which opened into a wide veranda overlooking the ocean. The bed was huge and plush, the skins that covered the floor were of the softest fur, and the settees upholstered in the richest velvet. It seemed that the rooms had not been used in ages.

As she took in the luxurious surroundings, her eyes fell upon a large dressing table, upon which were laid several pieces of jewelry, each set with priceless jewels. Archways led to more inner rooms that made up the apartment. She walked toward one just off the large sleeping chamber, but stopped abruptly when she saw the painting which hung over that room’s mantle. It was of three blonde tressed, green-eyed children. Brienne felt as though a ghostly hand had seized her throat. For a moment her pulse stopped, and then it pounded in her ears. Suddenly the contents of her stomach threatened to purge themselves onto the floor. These were Cersei’s chambers.

She felt as though the Queen’s eyes were staring at her from every corner. She wanted to run, but could not move. It was as if she had invaded some horrible unforgiving place, and would surely reap the dire consequences. Instinctively, Brienne brought her hand around Galladon, attempting to shield him from the evil that she felt here. At that moment, she jumped, startled by the voice behind her.

“Lady Brienne.” Tyrion called out. “There you are.” Brienne turned, surprised and shocked. She felt as if she were trespassing. However, Tyrion strode into the room with a bright smile and cheerful nod.

“Forgive me, My Lord.” Brienne stammered. “I did not mean to intrude here. I thought I was near the library.” Her chest heaved with anxiety.

“Not at all.” Tyrion continued to regard her warmly as he reached out and took her hand, patting it reassuringly. He was aware of the discomfort she must be feeling, and was eager to draw her attention from it. “This place can be quite a maze.” He nodded. Then he looked around almost embarrassed. “I am sorry you had to be subjected to this ridiculous crypt.” He looked disgusted. “Unfortunately, this is where we used to keep the family lunatic.” He quipped, hoping to lighten the moment, and bring a smile to Brienne’s face.

It worked, Brienne relaxed and dissolved into laughter. “These are Cersei’s chambers?” She questioned, already certain.

Tyrion nodded. “They are. Were.” His eyes scanned the contents disapprovingly. “I almost completely forgot about them. I have not walked in here since we were children.” He admitted. “She herself has not taken residence in them in many years.” He assured Brienne. She was obviously still uncomfortable.

He let loose of her hand and looked up at her earnestly. “Since we are here, I could use your opinion.” Although he could sense she wanted nothing better than to gone from these rooms so filled with the presence of her captor, he had an idea to help her in that desire. “I see no reason to keep this garish, depressing decor. I am Lord of Casterly Rock, and I think these quarters should become something much more cheerful.”

Brienne only bent her neck considering Tyrion’s words, eager to leave. Tyrion, however, continued. “I thought perhaps these walls along the balcony might be knocked out, and the doorways widened.” He gestured toward the thick doors that opened to the ocean view. “Maybe a brighter, more cheerful color palette, too. I am thinking red and blue, possibly with suns and moons decorating the walls.” He could not hold back his hopeful smile.

Brienne looked at him astonished. “The Sigil of House Tarth?” She questioned, unsure of the direction of his thoughts.

“Yes.” Tyrion acknowledged, and looked lovingly at his nephew. “I think the lad should be proud of both sides of his family. We could use a little Tarth on Casterly Rock, especially if you and Jaime are planning on staying here.” He spoke as if it were a foregone conclusion. “I thought this could be somewhere the boy could play in the rain and fog when he cannot go outside.” He smiled thoughtfully. “We could call it Galladon’s solar.” Tyrion chuckled.

Brienne’s apprehensive expression changed to one of thoughtful reluctance. She was flattered at Tyrion’s consideration of her son, but her heart still doubted that Jaime would return and she did not wish to accept any obligations. She had spent her sleepless night determining that she and Galladon would leave once they received word of Jaime’s decision to stay in Kings Landing, for she feared that was exactly what would occur.

She regarded Tyrion with appreciation. She did not want to disappoint him, and wished she could accept his generosity, but her doubt weighed too heavily upon her not to acknowledge. “That is very kind of you, My Lord. I am thankful for the hospitality you have shown us.” She gazed lovingly down at Galladon, trying to avoid Tryion’s eyes. “But, I will be taking my son home with me to Tarth as soon as the threat of the Queen’s troops has abated.” Brienne admitted.

Tyrion’s face fell in confusion. “My Lady. I do not understand.” He began. “When Jaime returns...” He tried to make his brother’s case in his absence.

Brienne could not bear to listen to a plea for which she had little faith, and did not allow Tyrion to speak the words. “He is not coming back.” She shook her head numbly.

The deep roots of Brienne’s pain shown in her sad eyes. Tyrion’s heart broke for her. He had heard from Queen Sansa of Brienne’s existence at Winterfell after Jaime had left her. Brienne had hidden her sorrow well, but Tyrion knew the dutiful facade she showed everyone, which was described to him, hid a heart shattered, perhaps beyond repair. He now feared how correct he had been.

Tyrion opened his mouth to speak, and the closed it again. He could not very well ask Brienne to trust Jaime while standing in Cersei’s chambers. “Please?” He said hopefully. “Would you take tea with me in my solar?” He reached up and guided Brienne’s arm before she could protest.

“Of course, My Lord.” She accepted, eager to leave the rooms that had belonged to the woman for whom Jaime had left her.

Tyrion and Brienne walked in silence along the wide corridors that led to his solar. He summoned the tea he had mentioned from a servant along the way. The young man jumped quickly into action and practically ran toward the kitchens. Once they reached the richly appointed room, Tyrion bid Brienne to take a seat near the warm fire in the hearth. He perched in the opposite armchair. He watched her whispering sweetly to the babe in her arms, and found the display so charming that he did not realize a delighted smile had found his face as he regarded them.

Brienne looked up after a few moments, and turned red. Suddenly she was bashful, unaccustomed to having an audience watching her gush over her child. “Oh. Pardon my casualness.” She lowered her eyes.

Tyrion laughed and shook his head. “Not at all.” He smiled, enjoying the refreshing difference between how Brienne and Jaime were raising their son, and the stern loveless fashion in which he and his siblings had been raised. “Don’t ever apologize for loving your child, My Lady.” Tyrion advised warmly. Brienne accepted the thought with a gentle nod. “May I?” Tyrion asked, holding out his arms, hoping Brienne would allow him to hold his infant nephew for a while.

Brienne stared at him for only a moment and then realized what he was asking. “Oh.” She smiled. “Of course.” Rising, she took a step and nestled Galladon into his waiting arms. “I suppose I have been monopolizing him.” She smiled, as she returned to her high-back chair, her eyes still upon her infant.

“Well, you are his mother.” Tyrion replied graciously. “That is perfectly understandable.” He said, cooing sweetly at Galladon as the boy smiled up at him.

Brienne’s self consciousness did not subside at his compassion. “I did not...” She began, and then stopped herself, not intending to reveal so much.

Tyrion studied her, seeing the agony she tried to hide. “Go on, please.” He implored.

Brienne waited while a servant entered the solar and set the tea service tray she carried on the small table between them. Once the steaming fragrant liquid had been poured, and she had taken a nervous sip, Brienne somehow found the courage to continue. “I believe I am averse to letting loose of him for long because I did not think either of us would survive our time in the dungeon of the Red Keep.” She sipped her tea once more, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. “While I carried him, I did not believe my arms would ever hold him.” She lowered her head mournfully at the memory.

Tyrion was silent for a moment, contemplating the weight of Brienne’s statement. He could not imagine the terror under which she had been forced to live. He marveled at her courage. “It sickens me, to think of what Cersei put you through.” He hissed. He did not tell Brienne that he knew she was awakening in the nights, terrified by her dreams.

Brienne’s voice would not come as she fought tears. She studied her fingers, folded in her lap, an anguished frown resting over her features. A nod of her head was her only answer.

“I know it must be painful for you, being here.” Tyrion continued empathetic to Brienne’s suffering. “Especially with Jaime gone at the moment.” He studied her seriously.

“What about you, My Lord?” Brienne questioned. “Cersei is your sister, too. You are aware of what he plans to accomplish?” She inquired, cooly.

Tyrion snickered and took a long slow swallow of his tea, careful with Galladon still cradled in his lap. He wished it was wine. “Believe me.” He voiced almost bitterly. “I would be with him if I could. What I wouldn’t give to shove a dagger through her vicious heart.” His eyes went distant, imagining himself completing the deed he would have to leave entrusted to his brother. “There has never been any love lost between us.” He admitted. “I shall not mourn her. I will celebrate.” Tyrion vowed.

Brienne felt her blood chill. She wanted Cersei dead for what the Queen had done to her, to Galladon, and even to Jaime. She understood that his sister had controlled, and manipulated Jaime his entire life. It was difficult for her to imagine being raised in a family where such hatred and betrayal was normal. She would have given almost anything to have her dear brother and her sisters returned to her, and to her father. She had always been surrounded by love, even when it had just been herself and Lord Selwyn. It had been very different for the Lannisters. Brienne could scarcely imagine such and upbringing, and suddenly, she was afraid. Her son was also a Lannister. She swore he would never be exposed to the malice and hostility in which his father had grown.

Tyrion read Brienne’s worried expression as her gaze studied her child. “Fear not.” He tried to calm her worries. “Galladon will never know that kind acrimony.” He guaranteed. “You and he have brought about a much welcome change in Jaime. You have allowed him to realize himself. You have brought out his true nature. He is no longer a man in pain.” Tyrion smiled. “Together, you and he, and your son are a new beginning for this family.” He insisted, smiling with relief.

Brienne could no longer stand even Tyrion’s best attempts to bring her hope and comfort. She shook her head, numbly. “He is not coming back.” She raised cheerless eyes to him, already certain of what she had declared.

“My Lady. Do not worry about him.” Tyrion tried to ease her dismay. “You have seen yourself that even with only his left hand, no one can best him when he wields a sword.” He promised.

Brienne shook her head slowly. Her expression contemplative, remembering Jaime’s form as his steel sliced through all his opponents. How she wished that were the only thing that troubled her. “That is not what brings me sadness, My Lord.” She asserted.

Tyrion all but scoffed at the direction of Brienne’s suggestion. “You can’t think that he would wish to stay...with Cersei.” He decried the notion.

“I do not think he wishes to.” Brienne sat staring ahead of her as if viewing unwanted images in her mind. “I doubt he will have a choice.” She said flatly.

Tyrion shook his head. “I do not understand.” He questioned, alarmed at the baffling direness of her fears.

“She will weave her spell around him once more.” Brienne spoke with a sad certainty. “It seems that whatever she wants from Jaime, your sister eventually gets.” She murmured, afraid to voice her dread too loudly. “Even though his desire would be to return to us, something will make him stay with her, and we will never see him again.” Brienne warned. “That is why Galladon and I will be traveling to Tarth, to Evenfall, as soon as it can be arranged.” She said matter-of-factly.

“I beg you, My Lady.” Tyrion appealed. “Do not let your faith in my brother quit you so soon.” He pleaded. “He loves you. He always has.” Tyrion assured her.

“He loved me the last time.” Brienne choked, her tears beginning to fall.

Tyrion nodded. “He never should have left you.” He nodded. “But he stayed with Cersei to protect you.” Tyrion acknowledged. “He was terrified that she would harm you.” He lamented.

“She did...harm me.” Brienne recalled painfully.

Tyrion nodded his saddened concurrence. “That is why I am certain Jaime will not leave her alive this time.” He swore. “Trust me, Jaime has paid for that mistake everyday since he left you at Winterfell. I know he has.” Tyrion lowered his eyes. “Even at your side, I believe he will never forgive himself for that.” He looked at Brienne earnestly. “He meant to protect you the last time. I know that desire is even stronger within him now.” Tyrion told her, hoping his declaration in Jaime’s stead would be enough to ease Brienne’s mind. “Oh no.” He shook head assuredly. “Jaime will not allow anything to stand in the way of his returning to your side.” He gave her a confident smile.

Brienne quietly sipped her tea, and watched Galladon falling asleep in his uncle’s arms. For a moment she could see Jaime’s face before her, as if he sat there beside the hearth with them. Save for her nightmares, it was the only image her mind had shown her since he had departed. She wanted to believe and trust what Tyrion said. Brienne’s heart and mind fought each other, both urging to be heeded.

Tyrion could see the turbulence of Brienne’s thoughts shadowing her face. He had one more claim in Jaime’s defense. The most important one. “I have never, in my entire life, seen my brother so happy, so content, or so completely in love as when he is with you, My Lady.” Tyrion smiled warmly. “Not even when he was with Cersei.” He watched Brienne’s expression grow wistful, and could see the love she also held for Jaime. “You know. It was never really love, with Cersei?” He eyed her questioningly, tasting his still steaming cup of tea. He watched Brienne’s reaction over the rim.

Brienne raised her gaze, confused and astonished. “But, everything he has done for her?” She asked, her eyes searching for meaning. “He has killed for her, led armies for her, pushed Bran Stark from a tower window for her?” Brienne declared, bewildered.

“No more than a trained hound would follow commands to please his keeper.” Tyrion asserted. “That is what she was, and that is what he was. A controlled, mindless vessel to do her bidding, and be thrown a few scraps of meat while she gave him only the attentions she could afford when it was convenient.” Brienne sat quietly, wanting Tryion’s words to be true, yet feeling her heart break for the torment Cersei had inflicted upon Jaime their entire lives.

“And he was fool enough to believe it was love.” Tyrion shook his head, as he continued describing the depths to which Jaime had been manipulated. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, there was a bond, a sibling affection. They are twins, after all.” He acquiesced a bit, then his face grew bitter. “She soon turned that to her advantage.” He recalled. “She burrowed her way under his skin like a parasite, and controlled his every move. His every thought.” Tyrion’s jaw clenched with hatred for his own sister.

“But surely, there was a deeper love. They were intimate.” Brienne’s innocence could not imagine otherwise. “He fathered children of her.” Her eyes widened with disbelief.

“Yes.” Tyrion nodded. “Even their intimacy was her doing. She started it all when they were quite young. They shared a bed as children, and she would suggest things.” He paused, not wishing to paint too graphic a picture of Jaime’s weaknesses to the woman he loved. “He would do what she told him, until they were caught and separated.” He reddened a bit.

“That did not stop it, though.” Brienne said quietly.

“For a while, it hindered even her best efforts.” He continued. “When they were older, and were both taken to court, Cersei renewed her advances.” His embarrassment deepened as his retelling continued. Brienne showed no shock. She did not react delicately, and so he went on. “Jaime did not refuse her. Finally, she forced him to join the Kingsguard.”

“He was Lord Commander.” Brienne interrupted proudly. “That is a position of honor.” She jutted out her chin a bit, unwilling to believe that Jaime had not earned the utmost respect.

Tyrion nodded his affirmative. “Yes it is.” He agreed. “It finally gave Jaime the opportunity to prove his honor, his worth, beyond Cersei.” Tyrion explained. “The only problem was that it put him right into her hands. She wanted him in the Kingsguard so that he would always be close to her. Within arms reach, whenever she wanted him.” He glared bitterly into the past.

Brienne’s knowing look met Tyrion’s icy scowl. “His oath.” She murmured, remembering Jaime’s painful lament of the promises he had been forced to swear. She could still see him in the bath at Harrenhal. “He gave up everything when he joined the Kingsguard.” Brienne again felt his intense resentfulness. It had hung heavy over the rippling water between them. Her heart ached for the stinging rage that it took everything for him to control. “So that made Cersei everything he could not have.” She choked back her tears.

“Yes.” Tyrion whispered. “She was lover, wife, mother of his children. But only whenever she needed him.” He acknowledged. “Jaime had no power at all.” He said ruefully.

Brienne felt hallow inside. She thought perhaps that might have been how Jaime had felt for so long. Her gaze swept over Galladon, and she remembered all she and Jaime had already shared, all they had promised each other. Her guilt ravaged her as she thought of the way they had left things between them. The way she had left things between them. Brienne wished she could have those moments back, and realized that perhaps Jaime’s desire was the same when he had left her.

Tyrion read the sorrowful look on Brienne’s face, and wanted to reassure her. “It is so very different with you.” He told her. “You have given him all that he could never have.” He smiled thoughtfully. “Love, compassion, caring, selflessness, strength, honor.” He beamed proudly. “He now knows the love of a good woman. He has a son, an heir, to wear his name proudly. He has a family.” Tyrion smiled, and toasted her with his cup.

Brienne caught her breath through the sobs which stuck in the back of her throat. She envisioned the torment through which Jaime had lived, for years. They had both been victims of Cersei. Both, her prisoners. Brienne recalled the exhilaration of the sweet passion she and Jaime shared. She had felt his love for her. It shone on his face. It exuded from him when he touched her. His love for her poured out through his very skin. Brienne swore to herself that she would be his salvation if he needed it, as he had been hers. She would not give up on Jaime so easily.

Her walls were crumbling, and Tyrion could see it. He trudged on. “Jaime loves you.” He smiled. “He loves you in so many ways that he never opened himself to Cersei.” Tyrion grinned. “The man Jaime is when he is with you, My Lady is so different than the man Cersei knows. He is his true self with you. The man he was always meant to be. Perhaps for the first time in his life.” He said proudly. “Please, do not leave Casterly Rock. He will return to you.” Tyrion swore for Brienne.

Brienne was quiet for a moment, letting Tyrion’s word wash over her. She felt her heart so filled with love for Jaime that she thought it might burst. She sighed, perhaps she was finally truly accepting Jaime’s love for her. “Very well.” She smiled, almost relieved. “We will wait, for now.” She agreed. Galladon squealed happily, and nuzzled further into Tyrion’s arms, as if to tell his mother he could not be more pleased with her decision.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To ensure the protection of Brienne and their son, Jaime returns to Kings Landing to confront Cersei.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the moment we’ve all been waiting for. Hope you enjoy.

The little farm stood quiet, and comfortable, and safe, tucked into the valley. Just the way Jaime remembered it. It seemed a hundred years since he and Brienne had left their cozy refuge, rather than just a few weeks. As he turned the wagon down the lane that led toward the house and barn, Jaime saw Aiken and Mary going about the day’s business in their modest yard and smiled to himself. It was good to see them again. It was good to be back.

Aiken looked up from mending an ages old span of fence, and Mary turned from hanging out her washing, as Jaime came driving up the house. They hastily stopped what they were doing, and came rushing to meet him. “Ser Jaime.” Aiken acknowledged happily, stretching his hand in greeting as he approached.

Jaime had halted the horse, and jumped to the ground. “Aiken.” He beamed. “It is good to see you, my friend.” He laughed, as he pumped the old man’s hand.

Mary reached them only seconds later. Jaime bowed to her. Taking her hands, he bent and kissed her aging knuckles as if she were a queen. The old woman smiled with flattered delight. Jaime straightened and flashed a happy grin.

“You know that is going to go straight to her head.” Aiken warned, laughingly. Mary swatted his arm, and rolled her eyes.

Jaime smiled broadly in reply. “As it should.” He declared. “She deserves it.” He regarded them both warmly. Aiken nodded his agreement.

Mary’s face suddenly grew serious for a moment. “Ser Brienne? The babe? Are they alright?” She asked concerned, but hoping that Jaime’s smile meant that she need not worry.

Jaime beamed. “They are well, and safe at Casterly Rock.” He informed her, happily.

“Oh, Praise the Gods.” Mary answered joyfully. Jaime and Aiken joined in her glee.

“To what do we owe the honor of your visit, Ser Jaime?” Aiken inquired.

Jaime looked over his shoulder. “I have come to return your wagon, and horse.” He gestured toward the rig. “We were fortunate to have it. The bed filled with hay saved Brienne and Galladon more than once.” He shuddered, reliving frightening memories. “My gratitude is immeasurable.” He bowed his head.

Aiken accepted his compliment honorably. “I am pleased and relieved that it served it’s purpose.” He declared.

“We certainly did not expect its return so soon.” Mary told Jaime, humbly. “Please say you did not travel all this way simply to bring the wagon back to us. Surely, it is not yet safe.” She eyed him, compassionately.

Jaime’s countenance suddenly changed. He lowered his gaze to the ground. “I have unfinished business in Kings Landing.” He almost whispered, not meeting their eyes. The elderly couple knew that he meant to end the life of the woman who was still a threat to the one he loved, and their child.

Aiken and Mary nodded their understanding, but said nothing more about the purpose behind Jaime’s journey. Mary’s motherly instincts took over as she began to tug Jaime by the arm. “Will you stay the night with us, Ser?” She beseeched. “So that you will be rested and refreshed for the remainder of your journey?” She offered hopefully.

Jaime smiled gratefully, but would not accept her kindness. “I fear I cannot.” He explained, hoping Mary’s feelings would not be injured. “I must attend to my affairs in the Capital, and hasten back to Ser Brienne.” Jaime told her. His expression changed to apprehension. “I did not leave her in the best of humors.” He acknowledged regretfully.

“She is upset with you?” Aiken asked, almost in disbelief. The loving nature between Ser Jaime and Ser Brienne which he had witnessed during the time the couple were their guests led him to believe a quarrel would never occur between the two.

Jaime sucked in his breath sharply. “Angry.” He corrected. “Perhaps more so than I have ever seen her.” He bemoaned. “She did not agree with my leaving.” Jaime explained.

“Surely she is aware of your purpose.” Mary was shocked.

Jaime quieted, and studied the ground. “I left her the first time, before she was taken by the Queen.” He swallowed hard against the regret. “I did not return then. I thought I was protecting her, but it did no good.” His tone was more pained than any Mary had ever heard. “She saw little difference between now and my error of that time. Ser Brienne believes I shall not return to her.” He frowned.

Mary saw the aching in Jaime’s heart, and was eager to encourage him. “Not to worry. She will be assured of your fidelity when you come riding back through the gates of Casterly Rock.” She smiled.

“Of course.” Aiken agreed. “My fair damsel here, has been plenty angry with me over the years.” He pointed toward Mary and snickered.

“And I am sure you, my husband, deserved every bit of it.” Mary nodded judgmentally, and then returned her attention to Jaime. “She will understand, once your task is complete.” Mary comforted.

The little scene between the two brought a genuine laugh from Jaime’s throat. “If we can have the same long life and affection as you have enjoyed, we will be truly blessed.” He admired.

Aiken and Mary smiled widely at Jaime’s compliment. “I am sure you will.” Aiken reassured him.

“Well then. At least let me feed you.” Mary insisted. “I will not turn you back out to the road on an empty stomach.” She swore.

Jaime grinned widely, remembering Mary’s excellent cooking. “That I would not refuse.” He accepted. Mary had him heading toward her kitchen before the words had left his lips.

Jaime allowed himself almost to forget the nature of his travels as he enjoyed a pleasant dinner with the elder couple he thought of, in a way, as parent-figures. Aiken was certainly kinder, gentler, and more accepting of Jaime than his own father had been, and Brienne had never known her mother. Mary was a perfect surrogate for the woman she had lost. Jaime felt more kindred with them than he did with any Lannister, save for Tyrion and Galladon. The couple had healed Brienne’s when she fell ill after birthing their son, and for that, to Jaime, they would always be family. The thought made him smile, and for a moment he lost himself in the fantasy that these were his people. How wonderful it would be to live with Brienne and their child here, in this little place that had been a sanctuary when they needed it most.

Sadly, Jaime could not linger in his imaginings. His mission was far too urgent, and he had woefully too much to lose. When the meal was over, and the conversation pleasantly lulled, Jaime gave his apologies that he must continue on his way. Mary and Aiken understood, they knew his plan was to kill the Queen, but said nothing. They both gave a silent prayer to The Seven for his success. A short time after the sun had set, Jaime bid his friends a heartfelt farewell, and continued on his way. He had returned them the wagon and draft horse which had carried Brienne and Galladon to safety. He would continue the rest of the way on the mount he had taken weeks ago while rescuing Brienne from the Red Keep. Jaime chuckled to himself as he rode along the trail heading east from the small farm, wondering how long it would take for Aiken and Mary to uncover the large bag of gold he had hidden in the bed of their wagon.  
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Kings Landing loomed ominously out of the darkness before him. Jaime had traveled around the city to the south and was approaching along the beachhead. He had tied and hidden his horse several miles down the coastline, and made the rest of the way on foot. The cold wind off of the bay chilled him, and he hoped it was not a dark omen of things to come. As quickly as such dire thoughts formed in his mind, he shoved them away. He would not allow dread nor fear to hinder his footsteps toward the thing he should have done months ago, killing the monster that was his own sister.

He was well acquainted with all the secret passages and hiding places within and around The Keep. He had made more than frequent use of them when bedding Cersei had been his obsession. Now that he was truly honest with himself, and now that he knew what it really felt like to love and be loved, he could admit that what he had known with his sister had never been about love. It had begun when they were young as carnal exploration, and then matured into a twisted abomination that had only ever been about lustful pleasures. They had served each other’s purposes, but he realized now that those intention had never been anything close to love. Jaime had left Cersei, and she had sent Bronn to kill him. What was there of love in that?

God’s he loved Brienne. He loved her with all of his heart. He would gladly give his life for her, and consider himself still the luckiest man in the Seven Kingdoms. She made him a better man. For a moment he saw her as if she were beside him. Part of him almost wished she were there, his strength by his side. They made the perfect pair. It was instinctive with them, as if they knew each other’s souls. Like they had been in love somewhere, together, through the ages and always would be. Even while he smiled at the thought of them, Jaime thanked the Gods that Brienne was safe with their son at Casterly Rock. He would not have given up that assurance even to have her by his side now. He dreamed of the moment he would see her again. When he would cast away all her doubts and return to her, forever. There was but one obstacle in his way, and that would soon be removed.

Jaime set his eyes upon his goal, and at last approached the entrance to the caverns beneath the castle. How many times had he passed through the hidden outcropping in the cliffs, unseen. Now there were two burly guards stationed at the mouth of the rocky catacomb. Jaime stopped abruptly and pressed himself against the rough wall of the crag that formed the base of the city. So, it appeared Cersei knew he would be returning, and she was ready for him. He wondered if the guards were there to protect her, or to make sure he was quickly escorted to her chamber.

Drawing his sword stealthily, Jaime braced himself for battle. Whatever their duty, he needed to dispatch them quickly. He would allow nothing to impede his progress. He had never been more covert, never more vigilant, as he crept toward the guards. The shifting sand upon which he slinked gave way under his feet, silencing his every step. The wind had changed directions and blew away from him. The very shadows were his allies, and provided an abundance of cover in which to hide himself. The night itself seemed to cheer him on. It was as if he were not there at all.

Quietly, he moved to within inches of the closest soldier. Knowing his actions would give him away, Jaime prepared himself to meet the onslaught from the other guard. It was nothing he had not done a hundred times before, but it had never been so urgent. Raising Widow’s Wail, he caught his breath, and ran the sword deep through the armor between the man’s shoulder blades. Jaime could feel the release of pressure as it punched through the guardsman’s heart, and burst out the front of his breastplate.

In one fluid motion, Jaime kicked the man off his sword, and sprang upon the other sentry only a few paces away. There was no time for the hulking watchman to draw his own blade before Jaime drove Widow’s Wail into the man’s neck. The massive figure of the guard collapsed into the sand beside his companion, his life blood spreading out in rippling pools on the sand. The dark night turning red to black. Jaime stepped back and caught his breath for a moment. This had been too easy. He was sure now that Cersei knew he was coming. However, either she did not want him hurt, or she had planned other, more difficult challenges for him deeper inside The Red Keep. He held his sword at the ready as he made his way toward his goal.  
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Jaime met no one else as he traversed through the lowest levels of The Keep. He easily found the ancient steps that led to the main level. Walking unhindered into another back hallway, Jaime heard the rhythmic steps of the guards patrolling the main corridors and walkways that cut across his path. He found it strange that not a single sentinel stood in his way. It was as if the route had been cleared for him. It was now obvious to him that Cersei was awaiting his return. He had set his pattern long ago. The absence of any one to block his route to The Queen’s chambers, the one he had taken so many times in the past, told Jaime that she believed he would be returning to her to beg forgiveness as when he returned from Winterfell. Then he had been desperate to keep Cersei from discovering Brienne and harming her, and was willing to tell his sister anything she might believe. Now, Brienne was safe, and Jaime smiled to himself imagining Cersei’s surprise when he would reveal his true purpose this night.

Finally, Jaime silently ascended the hidden stairwell that led directly to Cersei’s chamber. His heart raced as he envisioned what was to come. He fought his body to remain still. He could not afford to announce his presence. He wanted Cersei surprised and unsettled. Jaime paused at the heavy door which he knew opened behind a large tapestry in Cersei’s dressing chamber. It had been used by her maids to access the steps upon which he now stood. A convenient egress to keep The Queen’s eyes from falling upon soiled garments and bed linens as they were removed after use. Jaime had often gained access to Cersei’s suite this way. If he was correct, he would find it unlocked.

Jaime reached out and silently twisted the large golden doorknob. The panel swept aside easily. He peered into the darkness, and was surprised to find that the tapestry which had shielded the door was swept aside and tied back, creating a clear entrance to the suite. His heart beat loud in his ears. He was only steps from his revenge. Yes, Cersei knew he was coming, but just what would he find?

Jaime moved quietly into the room, drawing his dagger. He would be ready for whatever awaited him. He made his way slowly from the dressing chamber toward where he knew Cersei would lay sleeping. She assumed he posed no threat, and therefore would not have posted guards within her chamber. Jaime did not doubt that she expected him to crawl into her bed and make amends by pleasuring her. He could already feel Cersei’s disappointment, and her rage.

The moonlight through the open windows cascaded onto Cersei’s bed and lit her form. She was deep in slumber, and seemed almost as peaceful as a babe in a cradle. He thought bitterly of the babe about which she had lied to try to keep him with her. The falsehood had drawn him away from Brienne. Then his heart soared thinking about his real babe, Galladon, hopefully even now sleeping peacefully in Brienne’s arms. He gave a silent prayer of thanks that his child and the woman he truly loved were far from where he now stood, and knew no danger.

Jaime crept to the edge of Cersei’s mattress. She did not stir. He stared at her for a moment, scarcely able to believe the hatred that had replaced what was once his obsession. Looking at her now, there was nothing of love for her left in his heart. Even the sibling connection, the twin bond had died. He nearly laughed to himself at his folly. All his life, Jaime had thought Cersei was his soulmate. How wrong he had been. It was Brienne who held his heart in the palm of her hand, his very life in every breath she took. Brienne was his soulmate, and no one would keep him from her. Taking a deep breath, Jaime raised his dagger and pounced.

The weight of Jaime’s body pressed Cersei down into the mattress. The pressure of his golden hand covered her mouth, and the blade of his dagger found her throat. So many times he had found his pleasure atop her frame. Now the nearness of her turned his stomach, and shamed him. His intentions were only to redeem himself to Brienne. She was the only one who mattered. Cersei’s eyes sprung open in terror. Her constricted lungs struggled for breathe. She tried to writhe against his strength, but he pinned her down, the steel of his blade threatening to slice into her skin. She had apparently not expected her brother to return to her like this.

After a few moments, Cersei’s eyes grew accustomed to the low light. She realized it was Jaime who held her in place. Her breathing began to relax, and her gaze softened. In fact, she began to chuckle, eyeing Jaime with condescension. She shook her head vigorously, trying to break free of his clutching force. She attempted to say something but her voice was muffled by his metal palm. He tightened the edge of his dagger against her neck, but lifted his other arm just enough for her to whisper.

“I knew you would be back.” Her eyes danced with disgusted glee. “What is this nonsense?” She scoffed. “Holding a knife to my throat?” She was almost enjoying his efforts to liberate himself from her power over him. “There are men stationed just outside my door. If I summon them, they’ll be upon you in moments.” She told him, evil mirth shining in her glare.

“Raise your voice beyond a whisper, and it will be the last word you ever say.” Jaime warned her coldly, emphasizing his threat with the point of his knife.

Again Cersei sneered at Jaime’s hostility. “So. Where is the freakish bitch?” She mocked. “Dead, I hope. And her little bastard along with her.” His sister’s insult, and dire wish for Brienne and Galladon incensed Jaime. He moved the knife from her throat, sheathing it securely at his waist, and replaced it with his tight choking fist. She gasped for air as his fingers surrounded her flesh.

“Her name is Brienne.” Jaime seethed through gritted teeth. “Brienne. Say it!” He ordered. “Ser Brienne of Tarth. Say it.” He demanded again.

Eyeing him haughtily, Cersei refused. He squeezed until he could feel her pulse straining against his grip. Her eyes grew red from pressure and lack of air. For the first time she seemed alarmed. “Say it.” Jaime hissed.

Cersei coughed as Jaime released her just enough to mutter in response. “Bri...Brienne.” She sputtered, rolling her eyes angrily.

Jaime shook his head. “Use her proper title.” He warned. “Ser Brienne of Tarth.” He announced proudly, imagining her angelic face.

After a moment of murderous contempt, Cersei relented. “Ser Brienne of Tarth.” She complied hatefully, her eyes narrowing viciously.

Satisfied, Jaime continued. “Where is her sword?” He knew Cersei undoubtedly had the weapon that had been his heart’s gift to Brienne. She would assume that she had the right to the Lannister steel. Cersei’s hatred of Brienne and her need to completely possess all that Jaime held dear would prevent her from relinquishing the sword to anyone. He was sure it was near. Cersei pretended not to know of what he was speaking.

Again, Jaime wrapped his hand around her throat. “Oathkeeper! Brienne’s sword. Where is it?” He had to force himself not to scream it at her.

Reflexively, Cersei’s eyes traveled across the room. Jaime turned his head slightly to follow her glare. He gasped when he saw it. There, mounted above the hearth like some kind of war prize, was Brienne’s magnificent weapon. Oathkeeper’s hilt gleamed in the mixture of firelight and moonbeams that bathed it. It’s rich, leather scabbard looked as if it were the sword’s own skin enwrapping its metal bones. Jaime could almost hear the steel of it singing. It called out to him. For the first time since he had entered Cersei’s chambers he felt at ease, as if Brienne were there with him, bolstering his courage.

Jaime ran his golden hand up Cersei’s throat and lodged his grip beneath her jaw. He could forcibly hold her with the pressure of his arm, and keep her quiet at the same time. He would be able to immobilize any of her attempts to escape him with Widow’s Wail. His own sword confidently drawn, Jaime laid it threateningly across her chest. Pulling Cersei’s face, Jaime forced her up from the bed. Pressing her body to him, he prevented her from moving, and shoved her toward the hearth.

Cersei resisted, but was no match for Jaime as he slammed her against the stone wall, and pinned her there with his forearm. He returned Widow’s Wail to his side, and stretched to grab Oathkeeper. He had promised Brienne that he would bring it back to her, but first his work this night would be done with her sword. Retrieving the glorious blade, he drew it from the scabbard as if he were caressing Brienne. Letting the leather fall to the floor, he returned his attentions to Cersei, forcing the tip of Oathkeeper’s shaft against her throat.

“Why are you doing this?” Cersei asked with scorn in her murmured tone. “For what reason, revenge?” She taunted. “Was I correct? Has the whore succumbed in childbirth, and taken her bastard with her?” Her tone was so hopeful and malicious that Jaime wanted nothing more than to run her through at that moment. He bristled at the epithets she spewed at Brienne and Galladon. He snarled in hideous loathing, imagining her blood spilling across the floor. First, though, he needed her to know the reasons he was about to take her life. That her plan had failed.

“No.” Jaime smiled victoriously. “The woman I love is alive and well, and safe where you cannot touch her.” He beamed. “As is our beautiful, healthy son.” He announced with satisfaction. “Despite your best effort, you did not take their lives. Brienne and my child thrive.” His eyes grew happily wistful picturing Brienne and Galladon secure in the fortress of Casterly Rock.

“Your children are dead.” Cersei spewed disdainfully.

Jaime nodded. “You are correct.” He agreed. “My eldest boys are in their graves, as is my first daughter.” He acknowledged. “Although I could never claim them. I could never walk with them, teach them, or embrace them.” He recalled painfully. “Now there is a child who will wear my name. Whom I will claim as my heir, and love as I love his mother.” Jaime declared, “It is my hope that Brienne will present me with more in the future.” He wished aloud. “They are my family.” He lifted his chin higher and more illustriously than after any battle he had won in his life.

“So. You do this for her?” Cersei ridiculed. “You would so willingly throw away all that we have meant to each other. Destroy the life we share.” She judged.

“I do not love you.” Jaime sneered. “It was never love. It was power, your power over me, and my submission.” He realized remorsefully. “My entire life has been about you, and your control of me. I was your puppet. I was a fool.” He reviled. “Love you?” Jaime chuckled ruefully. “I despise you.” He swore.

Unwilling to hear anymore of the truth, Cersei tried to halt his words. “Jaime.” She gasped, appealing to the side of him that always gave in to her. This time, it did her no good.

Jaime started at her, scorn pulling the corners of his mouth into a disgusted scowl. “I thank the Gods that our children did not live to see the monster you have become.” He asserted contemptuously.

The reference to her dead children brought real tears to Cersei’s eyes. “How can you say such things to me?” She bemoaned. Jaime was unmoved.

“Myrcella and Tommen are safe in the Heavens, where you cannot corrupt them the way you did Joffrey.” He continued, his hatred for her evident in his words, his tone, and his eyes as he watched her. “You can take comfort in the fact that he will be your companion in whatever Hell will have you.” Jaime’s face turned bitterly sour, as he moved Oathkeeper from her neck and placed it’s point under her ribs.

“You shall never have power over me again.” He vowed to her. “And you will never hurt the ones I love.” He spoke his declaration to the Heavens, the hatred in his stare already damning her to the Hells.

With one forceful, almost unseen thrust Jaime stabbed the razor point of the Valyrian steel upward through Cersei’s skin, past her ribs, and into her lung. “That is for my son, Galladon, and how you tried to keep him from drawing his first breath.” He shook with hatred as he spoke, his eyes not seeing his sister, but the monster who had attempted to take everything from him.

Cersei’s pain-filled scream caught in her throat and could not find the path to leave her mouth as she stared at Jaime in shock. He quickly withdrew the sword and aimed it this time at her chest. Her eyes were wild with pain, with anger, and with shock as thick redness seeped from the wound in her side. “Jaime, please.” She begged in a gurgling moan, blood filling her throat.

With a strong and steady arm, Jaime forced the weapon through the hard plate of Cersei’s breastbone and pierced her heart. She tried to inhale as the realization of what he had done brought the fear for her life coursing through the veins he was draining. “That is for me, for how you tried to rip the heart from my chest by killing the woman I love.” He smiled, enjoying the act of freeing himself from her at last. Almost immediately her chest began to fill with her own blood. It seeped from the corner of her mouth.

“I love Brienne.” Jaime declared, smiling at Cersei as he swore his heart to another. “I always have. I will always love her.” He told Cersei, pleased by the heartbreak and rage in her eyes. “Brienne’s heart is a rare jewel. A treasure which somehow I have won.” Jaime sighed. “She is more beautiful to me than you have ever been. I will soon make her my wife, and we will never think of you again. You are nothing to me anymore.” He whispered dreamily into Cersei’s ear.

Jaime let go of his sister and drew back his sword arm. Cersei stepped toward him, her arms flailing, trying to exact punishment upon him for daring to harm her. He dodged her blows easily as the fight soon left her. She stood clutching her chest and trying to breathe, unwilling to believe she was done for. Suddenly, she remembered the prophecy that Maggy, the Woods Witch had teased her with so long ago. Her face went wild, as she realized it had all come true. She had married the King. She had outlived all her children. Never would she have thought that Brienne of Tarth would be the younger and more beautiful woman who would usurp her. Brienne had taken Cersei’s place in Jaime’s heart, and was now his queen. The prophecy had never been about the throne at all. It had been about Jaime. She had always assumed that Tyrion would be the Valonqar, the little brother who would come to kill her. Now she realize it had been Jaime all along. He too was younger than she. By only moments, but younger all the same. He would be the one who would take her life. Cersei’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what he would do. The prophecy would become reality.

She shook her head, trying to stop him. An agonized croaking note echoed from her blood-filled throat as she tried to speak his name. “Jai...” Was all she managed.

Raising Brienne’s weapon before him, Jaime sliced through the air toward Cersei’s neck before she could force another sound from her choking throat. “And this is for Brienne.” He proclaimed. Oathkeeper tore easily through the bones, muscles, and the flesh at the base of Cersei’s neck as Jaime separated her head from her body in one fluid motion.

Cersei’s severed head hit the floor with a thud, and rolled a few paces, coming to rest on the opposite side of the hearth from where Jaime stood. Her eyes still open, stared at him. Her body remained erect for a few moments and then collapsed in a heap before him. Jaime stood back breathless, unable to believe it was finally over. Brienne and Galladon were safe. He did not allow himself time to revel in his victory. As Cersei’s blood poured across the floor, he grabbed her head and carried it by its long blonde hair. Jaime rushed to the bed and removed a blanket in which he wrapped his prize. He then tore a pillowcase from its cushion and shoved Cersei’s detached skull into it. He hoped the wrapping would catch the still draining blood, and thus not create a trail by which to follow him. He retrieved Oathkeeper’s scabbard and tied the weapon to his sword belt alongside Widows Wail. As stealthily as he had entered The Queen’s bedchamber, he left it by the same hidden door. The only evidence that he had been there, Cersei’s lifeless, headless body lying dead on the stones.

Jaime retraced his steps through the Red Keep. He laughed in amusement that the path which Cersei had cleared to allow him to reach her, now gave him a perfect, and unhindered escape route. He ran the few miles down the beach to where his mount was tied, eager to be gone and hoping never to set foot in Kings Landing again. Shoving Cersei’s head into a saddle bag, he imagined his homecoming at Casterly Rock. He could already picture Brienne’s happy face when he returned Oathkeeper to her. Cersei’s head, he would present at her feet. A betrothal gift. He climbed onto his saddle, thinking it strange that he should feel only relief at taking his own sister’s life. He thought he should have some remorse, some sadness at the loss of her. However, all he felt was freedom, as if he could breathe for the first time in his life. He shoved the wondering from his thoughts, and reminded himself of how she had used him, and what she had done to Brienne. He would feel no mourning for Cersei. Suddenly, Jaime was overcome by the thought that there was still one more surprise he wished to bring back to Brienne. Still one more worry which plagued her mind that he wished to comfort. He did not need any time to consider his plan. He pulled the leather rein he held aside, turning his steed from its intended course. Smiling to himself, Jaime spurred his horse southward.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime has rid the realm of the only threat to the safety of Brienne and their child. He now continues his journey, attempting to gain an important ally in hopes of reassuring Brienne of his love and devotion to her. He also seeks to make his place in her life permanent.

Jaime had seen the island before. He had stared at it from the deck of a ship as he passed. Then, he had been on his way to Dorne to rescue Myrcella. There had been more than simply distance between himself and Brienne. The sight of the verdant meadows on the mountainsides rising above the sapphire waters had given his heart such a sense of peace that he had nearly smiled in longing before all of the crew. As he stared at her home, it had felt that Brienne had been standing at his side. Seeing the peaks and beaches of Tarth now gave him the joy of knowing that she was safe, along with their son. He thought to himself with satisfaction that since he had killed Cersei, they would remain so, without threat. His happiness and serenity were tinged with uncertainty at the thought of the reception he would receive from Brienne’s father, Lord Selwyn, the Evenstar.

He had ridden for days from Kings Landing to reach the docks near Storm’s End. Upon his arrival, Jaime had booked passage aboard a merchant vessel to ferry him the remainder of the way to Tarth. He stood nervously at the rail as they crossed Shipbreaker Bay. Oathkeeper hung proudly from his belt alongside his own Widows Wail. The saddlebag which held Cersei’s head was tucked securely under his arm. Jaime kept the hood of his cloak raised to shield his face from anyone who might recognize him. He spoke not a single word to the crew as he stood, watching the seaside island town of Castle Port come into view over the lapping waves.

The town spread itself at the base of a tall hill, upon which sat Evenfall Hall, Brienne’s ancestral home. Jaime breathed deeply, drawing in the sweet salty ocean air that somehow seemed to free his soul and reminded him of Brienne herself. He had not yet even set foot on Tarth, and already everything about the isle brought the woman he loved so clearly to his mind. It was pure, and bright, standing strong and tall against the barrage of the sea. Part of the realm, yet distant from it in majesty and grace. Deciding it’s own destiny and unscathed by the turmoil so rampant on the mainland. There was a steadfastness to the place. It seemed truly a rare gem glistening more dazzling than the sun. It was just like Brienne.

After arriving at the docks, Jaime retrieved his horse from the stalls in the hold, and rode for Evenfall without wasting a moment. He recalled Brienne’s tears as she wished for her father. He also remembered her apprehension and uncertainty at what would be Lord Selwyn’s reaction to her unwed motherhood. Jaime hoped that Brienne’s father would prove as honorable and as loving to his daughter as he felt certain anyone who could raise such as her would be. He was, however, also preparing himself to sever ties with the Evenstar should the man cast even the hint of defamation upon Brienne or Galladon.

Jaime sat regally in the saddle as he approached the gates of Evenfall. “I must speak with the Evenstar.” He declared loudly and formally to the guards stationed at the entrance to the grounds of the great castle. The armed sentinels all but smirked at his order. Lord Selwyn was the voice of authority on Tarth, and they did not take orders from anyone else.

“I need to speak with Lord Selwyn.” Jaime repeated, this time even more sternly than before. “I bring news of his daughter, Ser Brienne.” His tone grew urgent and annoyed at the mockery of the guards.

“Let him enter!” A loud, commanding voice boomed from the other side of the barbican. The armored men jumped to comply. They raised the portcullis, and allowed Jaime entrance into the walls that had watched Brienne grow.

He trotted his horse through the inner yard of Evenfall in a manner that expressed the confidence and self assurance he did not feel. All the while he felt Lord Selwyn’s stare burning a hole straight through him. The main doors of the castle were reached by a long broad stone staircase. The Evenstar stood imposingly upon the top landing, watching Jaime disdainfully. Brienne’s father had all of her height, and it appeared none of her gentleness. Although he was a man of advancing year, Jaime realized that Lord Selwyn could probably still give him a good fight if he chose to demand satisfaction for the defiling of his daughter. Jaime was fairly certain the Evenstar was aware by now of what had happened at Winterfell.

Lord Selwyn’s white hair and beard framed circled sunken blue eyes. His brow was furrowed with the lines of deep distress. He undoubtedly had spent these last months in anguished despair over the whereabouts of his beloved daughter. Jaime remembered his own fear and worry upon hearing of Brienne’s disappearance. He relived the months of powerless misery, not knowing if she were dead or alive. Undoubtedly, her father was well acquainted with the same torment. Jaime reached the foot of the stairs and dismounted. Raising his eyes to Brienne’s father, he waited hopefully for the invitation to ascend the steps. After a few moments of silence he wondered if the offer would ever be extended. Lord Selwyn glared at Jaime past the point of comfort. He could only imagine what thoughts were running through the old man’s mind.

“Kingslayer.” Lord Selwyn finally bellowed in Jaime’s direction. Jaime said nothing, but nodded respectfully. “You have word of my daughter?” The Evenstar questioned, his voice showing no sign of softness even at his mention of Brienne.

“I do, My Lord.” Jaime spoke up, forcing his voice to cover the distance between them. “I ask the honor of speaking with you privately.” He begged.

Again, Lord Selwyn stared at him as if he would like nothing more than to order his men to draw and quarter the noble knight in his presence. “Very well.” He agreed at last. Without further words, he turned and disappeared inside Evenfall.

Jaime grabbed the saddlebag he dared not lose, and rushed up the stairs. He followed Selwyn’s path hastily, until he fell in step behind the powerful Lord of Tarth. They climbed the grand main staircase from the Great Hall, and walked briskly through a maze of corridors. Each passageway was covered in the finest marble Jaime had ever seen. The Sapphire Isle was know for the richness of the veined mineral. It made the light inside the castle dance as it did in Brienne’s eyes, Jaime thought to himself as he walked quickly to keep pace. Lord Selwyn’s stride was as long and purposeful as his daughter’s. Jaime could already see much of Brienne in the elder lord’s countenance.

After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the room that was Lord Selwyn’s private solar. He swung the door open so briskly, Jaime thought it would crash against the wall. It slowed and did not make a sound, as if even the ancient wooden panel was intimidated by the Evenstar. “Close the door behind you.” Lord Selwyn ordered. Jaime understood that Brienne’s father wanted no prying ears to hear the details of his daughters fate. Jaime did as he was told and replaced the door quietly.

Lord Selwyn moved swiftly across the room and poured himself a goblet of wine from the service on a large heavy sideboard. At first, Jaime thought the solemn nobleman considered that alcohol may be needed to soften the blow of learning of his time with Brienne at Winterfell. Then he noticed the old man’s hand trembling. Lord Selwyn was stalling, afraid of learning of the dire fate that had befallen his only child.

After draining one glass and pouring another, Selwyn spoke as he braced himself, leaning on the sideboard. He seemed not a legendary warrior at all, but simply a worried father shattered at the loss his child. “My daughter?” He asked gravely, staring stone-like at the wall in front of him. He inhaled sharply and seemed to hold his breath. “Where is she?” He did not turn to look at Jaime, but waited in dread for the answer.

Jaime took a step closer to Lord Selwyn, empathetic to the man’s fear. “She is alive and well.” He announced, his heart soaring. “Brienne is safe at Casterly Rock.” He wanted to give her father the same comfort and peace of mind he felt in the knowledge. He saw the breath leave Lord Selwyn’s lungs slowly. Although he stood behind him, Jaime could almost feel the Evenstar’s relief. He imagined he heard the prayer of thanks the elder knight sent to The Heavens.

“All this time?” Lord Selwyn’s words grew strained. Surely Brienne would have sent word if she had known the security of the Kingslayer’s castle walls since she had gone missing. “Where has she been?” He needed to know the mistreatment to which his daughter had been subjected. He needed to know upon whom to exact his vengeance.

Jaime lowered his head in shame. “The Queen.” He began almost in a whisper. “My sister held her prisoner within the dungeons of the Red Keep.” He believed his heart would always break thinking of Brienne in that place.

“You were there, were you not?” Lord Selwyn seethed accusingly. Secrets were difficult to keep for long in Westeros. News of the Battle with The Dead has soon trickled to Tarth, along with anecdotes and accusations about what went on there after. He knew that Ser Jaime Lannister had quit Brienne after taking her maidenhead, and had returned to Queen Cersei’s side. “How is it you did not know my daughter wasted away in that wretched hole?” He took a rueful breath, unable to escape the image of his only child as a captive. “Am I to believe you were unaware that Brienne was being held in The Queen’s prison?” He turned and stared at Jaime, the fires of anger flaming in his eyes.

Jaime felt no taller than a pebble stuck to the bottom of the Evenstar’s boot. Whatever Lord Selwyn’s abhorrent opinion of him, it could be no worse than what Jaime already thought of himself. He would never escape the notion that plagued him, that he should have sensed Brienne’s closeness at The Keep. He believed his heart should have acknowledged to him the danger she faced. He could not bring his eyes to face her father.

“I did not know she was there.” Jaime tried to explain, not to excuse himself, but to begin to earn Lord Selwyn’s trust. “I should have. I know.” He admitted. “I should have felt her...somehow.” He shook his head in regret. “Please believe me. If, for an instant, I had even thought she were there, only death would have stopped me from pulling her from that place.” He swore.

Lord Selwyn smirked indignantly and rolled his eyes in disbelief. “You left her.” He charged. “You Lannisters are not the only ones who are aware of what happens throughout Westeros.” He scoffed disdainfully. “I know exactly what transpired between you and my daughter at Winterfell. You took her virtue and left her behind.” He glared at Jaime. “You abandoned her to return to your..., to The Queen.” He nearly spat his last indictment on the floor at Jaime’s feet.

Jaime knew he had no defense. All that Lord Selwyn accused was true. There was, however, no one in the world more distressed by it than Jaime himself. “I left Brienne, to protect her.” He said, painfully aware of how little good his actions had done. “I had no doubt that Cersei would have harmed her, if she had known about, about us.” He explained.

“The Queen did harm my daughter.” Selwyn hissed, moving a hard step closer to Jaime in his rage.

“I would give my life to change that.” Jaime asserted. “I never meant for Brienne to bear the brunt of The Queen’s jealousy.” He said earnestly.

“The Queen is dead.” Lord Selwyn announced, unable to keep the satisfaction from his voice.

“I know.” Jaime answered, shifting the saddlebag which held Cersei’s head uncomfortably beneath his arm.

Lord Selwyn studied the parcel that Ser Jaime held so protectively. The news of Queen Cersei’s murder had traveled all the way to Tarth only a day after it’s occurrence. Selwyn was well aware of the means by which she had been killed. He also noticed the absence of grief within her own brother. He was certain that Ser Jaime had killed The Queen, and that the saddlebag contained her missing head. He knew the man standing before him had killed his own sister to avenge Brienne. The Evenstar said nothing, as his mind began to form a more agreeable picture of Jaime Lannister. 

Something in Jaime’s tone as he confessed his regret at leaving, and the suffering in his eyes told Selwyn that Jaime was truthful when he swore his wish to protect Brienne. He understood that that Lion of House Lannister loathed himself for what she had endured. He believed the younger man’s heartfelt confession. “You love my daughter.” He said to Jaime matter-of-factory.

Jaime nodded. “With everything that I am.” He looked at Lord Selwyn, and the honesty with which he spoke moved the old man.

The Evenstar reflected silently as he filled another goblet with wine and handed it to Jaime. “She must love you very much.” Selwyn acknowledged. “Brienne is the most pure and honorable being in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms. She does not take physical relations lightly. I did not raise her to feel causally about such things. If she gave you her gift, she sees you in her future. Her heart is not bestowed carelessly.” Lord Selwyn’s words sounded a compliment to Jaime.

“I hope you are right.” Jaime smiled, picturing Brienne’s sweet loving face as she held their child. Gods, he missed them terribly. Jaime took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the silence that filled the room. Then he tread deeper into the news he had for Lord Selwyn. He swallowed hard, and looked bravely at his son’s grandfather. “Brienne has given birth to an heir.” Jaime informed Lord Selwyn. “My son.” He waited for the man’s reaction.

Before his eyes, Jaime watched the hardened face of the Evenstar soften to what it must have appeared on the day Brienne herself was born. “We have named him Galladon.” Jaime said, understanding the importance of his statement. The old man’s eyes glistened with happy tears, unashamed at the emotion he displayed.

Lord Selwyn thought of Brienne’s ordeal in Cersei Lannister’s dungeon. Then his stomach turned with realization. “She was kept in a prison cell, as she carried my grandchild.” Selwyn spoke as if he were begging the very Gods themselves for retribution.

Jaime’s remorse shown upon his face. “The Queen meant to kill both of them, in front of me.” He confessed. “Revenge, because my heart belongs to Brienne. It always has.” Jaime no longer bothered the hide of the truth of his relationship with Cersei. It seemed the entire kingdom knew. “When Brienne was brought into The Throne Room, heavy with my child, and I realized the intended purpose for her life, I struck down the guards and got her as far from there as I could.” It was Jaime’s turn to stare mournfully into the past, regret at Brienne’s torment nearly eating him alive. “She delivered Galladon that very night.” He brightened a bit, recalling the birth of his son.

Lord Selwyn’s heart reeled at the ordeal through which his daughter had survived. He could not image the hardship she faced, birthing and caring for a babe while hunted and on the run. His heart burst with gratitude that she and his grandchild were safe. It was common knowledge that The Queen had held little leverage over the power in the Westerlands. Not while her younger brother Lord Tyrion was Master of great fortress of the Lannister seat. He was overjoyed that Jaime had been successful in sheparding his daughter and her child to sanctuary. Selwyn wondered why she had not sent news to him sooner. “Brienne has surely been at Casterly Rock for weeks.” He followed logically. “Why did she not send word that she lived, or news of the child?” He questioned Jaime, partly hurt and partly uncertain,

Jaime lowered his eyes. “She feared how you receive her. How you would react to our child.” Jaime told him, somberly. “Brienne worries that you will think her a whore, our boy a bastard.” Jaime confessed bitterly. Then he looked threatening at Selwyn, incase Brienne had been correct. “Brienne is no whore.” He warned. “Nor my son a bastard. He wears my name.” Jaime told The Evenstar proudly.

Overcome with grief, Lord Selwyn’s legs failed him. He took a few faltering steps and sat heavily upon a thickly carved oak chair near the hearth. Jaime followed, almost afraid the lord would collapse. He did not wait for an invitation but sat opposite The Evenstar. Selwyn’s eyes were pained with regret as he spoke. “My girl.” Selwyn nearly sobbed. “I have spent my life so dedicated to right and wrong, to honor and morality.” The memories of all he had ever taught his daughter flooded his mind. “I have made my own child feel unwelcome in her home.” He lamented, raising his hand to his mouth, trying to hold in his cry.

He looked sincerely at Jaime. “I would never regard my daughter as such, nor my grandchild.” Selwyn told him, distressed at the thought. “I would cut down any man who dares even think of either of them that way.” He declared, and then turned his full attention back to Jaime. “That child may not have been born in wedlock, but it is clear to me that he was born from love.” Selwyn smiled approvingly. “Please tell my dear daughter thus.” He beseeched.

Jaime perched hopefully on the chair across from Lord Selwyn. “Return with me to Casterly Rock, and tell her yourself.” Jaime offered, smiling. “Brienne longs to see you.” He relayed the wishes Brienne herself had expressed.

Lord Selwyn’s face beamed at the thought of reuniting with his beloved daughter. “We will leave at first light.” He roared in agreement, accepting Jaime’s invitation to accompany him.

Even as he thrilled imagining Brienne’s joy at seeing her father, Jaime grew pensive. He needed Lord Selwyn to know that their journey may involve an element of risk. “It could be perilous.” Jaime warned. “If Cersei’s forces are still on the hunt, they will be looking for me.” He cautioned.

The Evenstar took a long, slow sip of his wine, and shook his head in opposition. “Unlikely.” He said, his eyes dancing. Jaime inclined his head with interest.

“Stark forces have taken The Capital, with nary a drop of blood spilled upon the stones.” Lord Selwyn informed him.

Jaime chortled, joining in Selwyn’s mirth. He recalled his parting word to Tyrion, that he should inform Queen Sansa of Cersei’s imminent downfall, and the ease with which the throne could be taken. The fact the Cersei’s own troops had shown her so little loyalty gave him immeasurable glee. He had apparently missed much of the news of the realm during his travel from Kings Landing to Tarth. Selwyn eyed him, uncertain what Jaime could find so funny. “My sister would be furious at her men’s traitorous turn about.” He grinned.

Selwyn himself choked a little as he downed another swallow through his chuckling. “A few tried to defend their deceased monarch. Most threw down their arms and swore fealty to the Stark banner on the spot.” The image brought uproarious laughter from both men.

“So.” Jaime swirled his goblet thoughtfully. “Sansa Stark sits upon the throne.” He voiced approvingly.

Selwyn shook his head. “No. Sansa Stark remains Queen in the North.” He reported. “Her brother, Brandon Stark, has been crowned King of the Realm.” The Evenstar gave no sign of criticism as he announced the news.

Jaime sat considering the events Selwyn had relayed to him. “The Three-Eyed Raven?” He asked rhetorically. Jaime thought of what he had once done to Bran Stark, and of the boy’s words to him at Winterfell. The new king had shown himself just, forgiving, and wise. For the first time, he realized that perhaps Bran had seen everything Jaime would do after the battle, including killing Cersei. It was fitting that he should be given such an honor. Jaime considered what it would mean to the realm to have a Stark upon the throne, and then nodded. “He will be a good king.” Jaime affirmed.

“On that we agree.” Lord Selwyn smiled and held up his heavy goblet. Jaime met his toast eagerly with his own golden cup. “The Queen Is Dead.” Selwyn pronounced. “Long Live The King.” He saluted.

“Long Live The King.” Jaime echoed respectfully.

Lord Selwyn downed his wine, excitedly. He nearly slammed his goblet upon the small table between them. “Alright Ser Jaime, we have come to an understanding regarding my daughter. We have discussed matters of the realm. We have even made our travel arrangements.” He smiled. “Now, tell me about that grandchild of mine.” Brienne’s father beamed joyfully.  
——————————  
Jaime and Lord Selwyn had ridden halfway across Westeros when they at last felt it was safe to stop for the night. The men would have preferred to continue on, but the horses needed a rest. They had met but a few soldiers whom they guessed still swore loyalty to the dead Queen, and even those appeared little concerned with their fealty, for they paid them no mind. Rather than a fugitive, Jaime now seemed to be regarded as simply a fellow traveler searching for his next lot in life. He knew exactly where his path across the realm would end. Every step took him closer to Brienne and Galladon, and he was eager to reach them.

They had brought a supply of rations with them from Evenfall, which had sustained them well on their journey. While Lord Selwyn went about laying out a meal of salted meat and hard bread, Jaime struck Widows Wail against his flint to build a fire for the night. The men laid their bedrolls on the ground near the blazing stone circle, and settled themselves around the flames to enjoy their small feast.

Lord Selwyn could not help but notice that Jaime seemed more pensive and preoccupied than usual. “We are halfway to Casterly Rock. There has been no one to pose any threat along our entire journey.” He declared good naturedly. “What is it that troubles you, Ser Jaime?” He questioned, washing down a tough bite with a large swallow of wine.

Jaime picked at his meal with a distant stare. “When I left, Brienne was certain that I would not return.” He lamented. “It was too much like, like Winterfell to her.” He lowered his head shamefully. “My travel has taken longer than expected since venturing to Tarth. I do not wish to imagine what she must thinking of my belated arrival.” He lamented.

Selwyn considered, Jaime’s words. He was touched by the caring and concern the man showed for his daughter. “Her fears will be allayed once she lays eyes upon you, I am sure.” He guaranteed.

Jaime nodded, unconvinced. “Still, thoughts of Brienne worrying over my whereabouts pain me more than any blade ever could.” He said regretfully. “She has been through enough. I have caused her more grief than she should need to bear. I would sooner have my own flesh flailed from my bones than think of her suffering for any reason.” He closed his eyes at the idea of the pain which he knew was tormenting Brienne in his absence.

Lord Selwyn regarding Jaime proudly. “It touches my heart to see the devotion you have for my daughter.” He said solemnly.

“I love her.” Jaime told him earnestly. “Brienne is my very heart. Somehow she sees me as the me as the man I was always meant to be.” He smiled. “She makes me want to be that man, for her.” He aspired.

“Not many have bothered to understand my dear girl’s lovely heart.” Selwyn said bitterly.

Jaime’s jaw clenched, mirroring Selwyn’s rueful misery. “She has encountered many fools.” He shook his head. “It is not only her heart that is captivating.” Jaime corrected, his eyes focused on a point somewhere ahead of them, as if Brienne were standing before him. “She is the most beautiful woman I have ever known.” He smiled tenderly.

Lifting his head approvingly, Selwyn sat back and gave Jaime a satisfied nod. “I have waited a long time for someone to see my daughter for what she truly is, to give her the love and admiration she deserves.” He admitted.

Suddenly, Jaime could not meet Selwyn’s eyes. “She deserves so much better than me.” He conceded.

“You believe you are not worthy of her.” Selwyn acknowledged. “Truth be told you are not. No one is.” He asserted, his voice deadly serious.

An agonizing disappointment overcame Jaime, as his heart fell to the pit of his stomach. ‘Did Lord Selwyn’s disapproval mean that The Evenstar would order him out of Brienne’s life, forever?’ He thought chillingly to himself. That was a punishment he could not accept.

The old man noticed Jaime’s crestfallen demeanor, but continued. “The fact that you understand what a rare treasure my daughter is, and that you consider yourself woefully inadequate to have been gifted with her love is exactly why I am certain you are the only man in the Seven Kingdoms who could even come close to deserving of her.” He studied Jaime with a serious expression. At one time Selwyn had nothing but contempt for the knight who had slain his king. However now, knowing what he meant to Brienne and that she held Jaime Lannister in her heart, made him reconsider. He trusted Brienne’s judgment. Selwyn knew that her honor meant far too much to her to associate herself, and to have born the child of, any man whose integrity of which she were not completely sure.

Jaime understood that Lord Selwyn was giving his consent for the life he dreamed of with Brienne. He would not let the opportunity slip through his fingers. He drew Oathkeeper, Brienne’s own sword, from his belt and stood the blade upright before him in the ground as he knelt respectfully before The Evenstar. Jaime gripped the ruby laden hilt of the weapon, holding it tightly in front of his face. Light from the fire reflected off the steel and mixed with the blue purple of the evening sky, illuminating Jaime with an almost otherworldly light, as if the declaration he was about to make came from the Heavens themselves. He took a deep breath to steady himself, and addressed Brienne’s father.

“Lord Selwyn of Tarth.” Jaime began clasping Oathkeeper to control his shaking. “I am deeply in love with your daughter.” He affirmed. “She is the only woman I have ever truly loved. The only woman who’s affections I have ever truly held in esteem.” He swallowed hard, hoping that Lord Selwyn would understand that his past relations with his own sister had been a grave mistake, and had never meant that his true heart had ever belonged to her. “I realize that I am far from worthy of Brienne, but I swear that I will spend my life endeavoring to be.” Jaime was so intent on choosing the right words, and conveying his love for Brienne that he did not realize tears were glistening in his eyes at the thought of her. “I swear to you that I will never let anyone hurt her. I will cherish and treasure her always. She will know only love, and happiness as long as I draw breath.” Jaime raised his eyes, and stared intently into The Evenstar’s own. “I kneel before you humbly, not as a knight, not as a Lannister, but simply as a man who loves Brienne more than anything in this world.” His voice broke with the weight of his appeal. “My Lord, with my heart in my grasp, I ask for, I pray for, the blessing of your daughter’s hand in marriage.” Jaime lowered his head, unable to breath, waiting for Lord Selwyn’s answer.

Jaime heard Lord Selwyn take a long deep breath, considering his words. After a moment that seemed an eternity, the old man spoke. “Lift your head, Ser Jaime, and look me again in the eye.” He ordered. Jaime nervously complied, anxious for The Evenstar’s answer. “You have made the depths of your love for Brienne abundantly clear to me.” He stared down a little at the man beseeching him for his greatest treasure. “I can say without reservation, there is no one else in these Seven Kingdoms with whom I would allow my daughter to join her life. There is no one else I would ever consider worthy of her, but you.” Lord Selwyn smiled. “Yes. Ser Jaime.” Selwyn answered. “I wholeheartedly give my consent for you to wed my daughter.” His tone was relaxed and sure. His eyes proud and warm. He realized that not only had just given Jaime everything he had ever wanted, he had given Brienne her heart’s desire as well, although she did not yet know it.

Jaime’s smile beamed with a brightness that rivaled all the stars in the sky. He bowed before Lord Selwyn in deference, and then nearly jumped to his feet with joy. Selwyn stood with him, Jaime reaching for his hand. “Thank you, My Lord. Thank you.” He radiated happiness, shaking Brienne’s father’s hand firmly. “You have given me the greatest honor I have ever know. You will never be sorry. I swear it.” He vowed.

“I know that.” Selwyn accepted, only a small hint of fatherly warning in his voice.

It was then that Lord Selwyn’s eyes fell upon the rotting parcel at Jaime’s feet. “I do hope that if you are planning to present your sister’s head to my daughter, that you intend to do so in something more fitting than that reeking decrepit saddlebag.” He nodded at the stained leather duffle.

Jaime looked at Lord Selwyn, shocked by the man’s intuition. “How did you know?” He asked in a guarded whisper.

Lord Selwyn chuckled. “You show up at Evenfall, on the other side of the continent from where you shepherded my daughter, only a few days after The Queen is killed.” He began to list. “You have not let that satchel out of your sight, and the leather has conformed to the shape of whatever it holds within, which is obviously either a head or a melon.” He continued. “Brienne is fond of fruits, but I doubt she needs one carried across the kingdom for her.” Selwyn joked. “There is no one who had more reason to take The Queen’s head, and I would expect nothing less from you to ensure the safety of my daughter and grandson.” The Evenstar praised.

Jaime’s expression turned cautious. Would Lord Selwyn find fault with his actions, or herald him? It suddenly occurred to him that he was now not only a Kingslayer, but a Queenslayer as well. His fears were soon mitigated by Selwyn approving glance.

“Fear not, my boy.” Lord Selwyn eased. “If you had not removed it from her shoulders. I would have.” He stared at the bag hatefully. “For what she did to Brienne.” A vengeful smile found his face. “The bitch got what she deserved.” He affirmed, and then remembered Cersei had not simply been Jaime’s jilted lover. “Forgive me.” He asked, ceremoniously. “I realize she was your sister. That alone could not have made this easy.” He allowed Jaime a moment of mourning, not recognizing it was unnecessary.

Jaime shook his head. “On the contrary.” He hissed, assuring The Evenstar that there was no sadness in his heart. “It was the most freeing, most vindicating thing I have ever done.” His tone showed only relief. “Made all the more so by knowing that her death brought safety to the woman I love and our son.” He smiled wistfully at that thought, and then returned Selwyn’s stare with the same repulsed expression. “Truthfully, Cersei had not acted like a sister since we were small. We were all pawns to be played by her. This world is far better off without her. I certainly am.” He let out a relieved sigh, and kicked at the saddlebag.

Embarrassment shadowed on Jaime’s face for a moment. “I know that it is a strange betrothal gift.” He admitted. “But I want Brienne to see that Cersei is dead, and can never hurt her again.” Jaime explained. “I want her to know that it was by my hand, with Oathkeeper, Brienne’s own sword.” He proclaimed proudly.

Selwyn nodded, pleased that Jaime did not mourn the one who had brought so much suffering to the those he truly loved. “Well then.” He changed the subject. “It is better than any gem in the realm, and dare I say far more likely to please the warrior I raised.” He smiled. “Such a momentous token cannot be presented in filthy animal skin.” He decreed.

Lord Selwyn strode regally to his horse, which had been tied to a branch a few paces away. Jaime studied him with wonder. It was clear from where came Brienne’s caring and compassion. He had not expected her father to be so accepting of his affections for her, nor had he ever dreamed his petition for her hand would have been met with such stalwart approval. He found a respect and fondness for The Evenstar growing within him.

After a moment of digging in his own saddlebag, Lord Selwyn returned to Jaime’s side carrying a small package. Whatever it was that Brienne’s father held, it was wrapped in paper, and tied with a simple twine. “Perhaps this would make a more appropriate offering.” Lord Selwyn suggested, handing the bundle to Jaime.

It was light, and gave way under Jaime’s fingers as he accepted it. Holding it still upon his golden hand, he carefully untied the string which held it together. He turned back the paper to reveal a sturdy pouch made of light blue velvet upon which were sewn images of moons and stars in threads of silver. The bottom was reinforced with the leather tanned so richly that it shown bright red. A drawstring served to close the lovely sack and was made of a fine tightly braided golden cord. Jewels sparkled around the bag, glinting in the firelight. Jaime smiled upon realizing the nature of the precision stones that adorned the new wrapping that would hold his gift. They were sapphires.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime returns triumphantly to Casterly Rock with a surprise for Brienne.

Jaime and Lord Selwyn made haste to Casterly Rock, stopping only when necessity compelled it as they raced across Westeros and back to Brienne. As it were, weeks had passed since Jaime had last seen the woman he loved, and his son. He knew that Brienne must be beside herself with worry or anger. He prayed she understood that he would return to her no matter what the perils. The thought of her being troubled for any reason was tearing him apart. As their time on the road increased, so too did Jaime’s apprehension and anxiety. Lord Selwyn noticed the pensive lines drawn almost continuously across Jaime’s brow. He heard the younger man tossing and turning, unable to find sleep during the nights they were forced to stop. The Evenstar noted how quiet Jaime had become as the days stretched on. He could not help but feel for the man who so obviously adored his daughter.

Not long after sunset, on a day that had been much warmer and brighter than the rainy deluge in which Jaime had left Casterly Rock, he and Lord Selwyn finally rode through the gates of the fortress. No sooner had they crossed over the drawbridge did the courtyard burst into activity, as servants, squires, and bannermen hustled about, eager to welcome Ser Jaime home, and oblige his honored guest. The two weary travelers jumped from their mounts, both happy to be within such short a distance from the woman they both held in their hearts, all be it for different reasons. Tyrion burst through the main doors of the Lannister Keep, and ran at full speed to greet his brother. Although he had never before laid eyes upon the tall white haired nobleman who accompanied Jaime, Tyrion knew instantly the identity of the man, as well as the reason for Jaime’s extended absence.

“Jaime.” Tyrion bellowed as he bounded up to where the men stood. “You have returned at last.” He smiled happily, relief evident upon his face. He had recieved word of Cersei’s death and knew that Jaime had been successful in that regard. He had celebrated at the news of King Bran’s ascension to the throne. However, there had been no word of Jaime, and his late arrival had Tyrion nearly sick with worry. He was not the only one.

“Good evening, Brother.” Jaime nearly shouted, as he bent to embrace Tyrion. “It is very good to be home.” He beamed as he stood.

Then turning toward his guest, Jaime nodded reverently. “Lord Tyrion Lannister, this is Lord Selwyn Tarth, of Evenfall Hall.” He presented, confirming Tyrions’s prediction. This was what had taken Jaime so long.

“The Evenstar.” Tyrion stated respectfully. “Lady Brienne’s father.” He smiled warmly as he and Lord Selwyn shook his hands. “She will be pleasantly surprised, I am sure.” He confirmed. “Casterly Rock is yours, My Lord.” He bowed.

“Thank you, Lord Tyrion.” The Evenstar nodded regally. “I am honored by your hospitality.” He acknowledged. “What I wish most here at your great house is to see my daughter.” He smiled.

“Of course, My Lord.” Tyrion agreed. “We shall take you to her presently.” He offered.

Jaime had turned and retrieved the blue, jewel encrusted parcel which carried Cersei’s head from the pouches draped across his horse’s saddle. “Is that what I think it is?” Tyrion questioned trying to veil his contempt. Jaime only nodded.

“Well, I won’t say I would not love to feed that little package to the swine.” Tyrion’s eyes twinkled. His face gave the hint of a satisfied vengeful smile. “But I will leave that pleasure to you and Lady Brienne.” He conceded.

“Where is she? How is she?” Jaime begged, his voice breaking with emotion. He scanned the courtyard and castle windows, as if he expected she might be waiting. “Galladon? How is my son?” He beseeched,

Tyrion motioned for the men to follow him before he continued. “Galladon is perfect as always.” He grinned. “I dare say he has grown since you have been gone.” He chuckled proudly.

“I imagine he has.” Jaime’s face fell a little to think of having missed more time with his little family. He noticed Tyrion’s silence on the topic of the child’s mother.

“Brienne?” Jaime asked again, hopefully.

“Her nightmares have gotten worse.” He reported. Jaime saw Lord Selwyn bristle at the disclosure as he walked beside them. “She does not venture far from her chambers.” Tyrion’s eyes looked worried. “She eats little, and spends most of her time with the boy either behind her door, or in Galladon’s solar.” He told his concerned brother as they entered the Keep.

“Galladon’s solar?” Jaime questioned, wondering what the term could possibly mean.

Tyrion nodded. He looked down certain Jaime would not like the beginning of his description. “Yes.” He mumbled. “Cersei’s old chambers.” He cast his eyes away from the disapproving glare he knew would follow.

“What?” Jaime roared angrily as they reached the stairs to the second floor. “How could you let her go in there?” He turned on Tyrion.

The younger Lannister could almost feel Jaime’s rage, and held up his hands to calm the tirade that was brewing in his brother’s countenance. “She stumbled upon them one day.” He began nervously. “We have done a little redecorating.” He began to smile at the transformation he had performed in the space for his beloved nephew. “Oh, you’ll understand when you see them.” He informed his brother, knowing further explanation could not do justice to his grand idea.

So anxious was he to reach Brienne, that Jaime’s anger was calmed for the time being. He would deal with what he perceived as Tyrion’s lapse in judgment later. Even though he wanted to rush up the steps and race to Brienne, Jaime remembered his courtesies, and his place. Lord Selwyn outranked him, both in knightly experience, and in regards to Brienne, since Jaime was not yet her husband. He motioned for The Evenstar to walk ahead of him. Selwyn bowed his head in thanks and followed upon Tyrion’s heels.

As they walked through the upper main hallway, one of Brienne’s maids came hurrying in the opposite direction. She curtsied dutifully when Tyrion stopped her in her tracks. “Girl. Where may we find Lady Brienne?” He asked authoritatively.

The young woman brightened when she saw Jaime, and answered Tyrion respectfully. “My Lord, I left Lady Brienne and the babe in the new solar.” She informed him.

“Thank you.” Tyrion said, satisfied with her answer. “You may continue.” He allowed, and waved her upon her way.

“My Lords.” The maid curtsied again, this time to all of the men, and rushed off to gather whatever it was that Brienne had sent her to fetch.

“This way, My Lord.” Tyrion motioned in the direction he bid The Evenstar to follow. Jaime, of course, already knew the way.

When they reached the door, both Jaime and Lord Selwyn stopped and inhaled deep nervous breaths. Tyrion could read the hope and fear on their faces. Both men wanted nothing more than to tear down the door and rush to Brienne. However, each understood the reasons of the other, and wished only what would ease Brienne’s mind the most.

“Please, My Lord.” Jaime offered. “She will be overjoyed that you are here.” He conceded.

Lord Selwyn smiled warmly and shook his head. “No, My Boy.” He regarded Jaime proudly. “She needs to see you first.” He understood.

“Thank you.” Jaime lowered his head, grateful for Lord Selwyn’s kindness.

Tyrion smiled, trying to break the somber mood. “I will keep Lord Selwyn entertained here while you speak with Brienne.” He assured his brother.

Jaime nodded his gratitude and turned toward the heavy oak panel that stood between him and the woman for whom he longed. He was suddenly struck with fear, uncertain at the reception he would receive on the other side of the threshold. His hand was trembling as he reached for the large doorknob. With his heart in his throat, he quietly opened the door and stepped into the chamber that once saw his most sinful acts, but now held only the sweet innocence of the woman he truly loved and their child.  
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Brienne had known little rest since Jaime had left Casterly Rock. Her nights were sleepless. Her days were troubled. Tyrion had told her that Cersei was dead. He assured her that meant Jaime had been successful and was on his way back to them. However, as the weeks after wore on, her heart grew mournful. Every morning she would rise, hoping that day would be the one to see Jaime riding triumphantly through the gates of Casterly Rock. Each evening when he did not return, her resolve to stay faithful to Jaime’s word, would shatter. Her fear and regret overwhelmed her logic.

Her guilt at their last parting consumed her. How Brienne wished she been able to bid Jaime a proper farewell, to send him off with a loving kiss and smiling hopefulness, instead of the hateful anger she had spewed at him. How wrong she had been. Jaime had done what he swore he would. He had killed is own sister, for her. Brienne’s safety and that of her child was ensured because of Jaime’s sacrifice. Now she was terrified for the life of the man who had given her that security.

Brienne began to feel certain that Jaime was dead. She could not tear from her mind the image of his head perched atop a spike on the walls of Kings Landing. That was the only explanation that would have kept him from returning to her. The only joy there was for Brienne during those days was Galladon. Her son was Brienne’s entire world. At least she had that much of the man she loved. This night she stood at the balcony outside the grand quarters which Tyrion had turned into a veritable playland for her son. Galladon, his stomach full, nestled against her shoulder. Brienne bent her neck to nuzzle her child’s soft little head with her cheek, swaying rhythmically to please him and ease him into his sleep.

As he entered the rooms that had once belonged to Cersei, Jaime marveled at the change in the surroundings. Tyrion had been correct, Jaime had to see it to believe it. The space now more closely resembled an outdoor play area than a bed chamber. The structure of the room had been altered to create large open areas, just right for a growing boy to run. He almost chuckled thinking that Galladon could not yet even sit up by himself. There were soft pillows, and places to explore. Even the hearth had been enclosed with a wire cage, to keep little hands from the fire. Jaime caught his breath when he saw that the walls were now decorated to honor his son, and Brienne. They were painted red and blue, with the golden and silver celestial bodies of the sigil of House Tarth. The lions, of House Lannister were also displayed prominently around the room, an homage to his heritage. Jaime was glad that it was as if his sister had never been there. The chambers now truly belonged to Galladon.

Jaime’s eyes searched the softly lit quarters for Brienne. Not a single sound met his ears. There was no sign of her. A warm breeze tossled his hair and he noticed the open doors to the balcony. He moved toward the glass-paned doors which had been reworked with the blue of Tarth now nestled among the red and gold stained glass panels. He stopped only a few feet from the exit that promised to take him to Brienne. He was suddenly afraid that she would not be there. The blood pulsed in his ears, and he forced the courage to take another step. Then, he heard Brienne’s lovely voice softly speaking to their infant. His heart leaped for joy, and he nervously stepped out into the evening air without making a sound. That was when he saw her. Her enticing long body, for which he had ached, was silhouetted against the moonlight. Brienne held their child gently against her, and comforted him with her presence. She was the most lovely thing Jaime had ever seen. The scene took his breath away, and stole his voice for a moment.

Brienne stared out over the sea, it’s crests crashing on the rocks below in such contrast to the gentle lapping waves that bathed the beaches of her home island of Tarth. She feared she would soon have to choose, either to stay, or to travel with Galladon to Evenfall. Lord Tyrion had been a kind and gracious host. However, without Jaime, there would be little reason for her stay at Casterly Rock. She longed for her own home, and her father. She prayed he would welcome her with open arms. Tears came to her eyes at the thought of what leaving would mean. She would be accepting that Jaime was never coming back to her, that he was dead, and she would never see him again.

As Brienne fought the tears forming in her eyes, she heard it. The voice nearly a whisper behind her. It was choked and seemed to crack with tears like the ones she was losing her battle to control. For an instant she thougt it was a servant, or perhaps Tyrion, but no. The voice was too familiar, too dear. She would know it anywhere.

“My Lady.” Jaime breathed, shocked at the realization that finally he was beholding her in his gaze. He could not move.

Brienne froze, just as Jaime did behind her, terrified that with even the slightest motion this specter would disappear. Galladon stirred in her arms at the sound of his father’s voice, as if he wished nothing more than to greet the man who had been so long away. Brienne closed her eyes savoring the echo of Jaime’s tone in her mind. Surely, it could not be just a dream. Why would her courage pick now to fail her, after her sorrow had been so overwhelming? She could not bear it if it were only her mind playing tricks.

Jaime took another timid step in Brienne’s direction. He felt that if he tried to touch her, she would vanish in a cloud of mist and fly away from him over the ocean. When she did not turn, he feared she was still angry at him for leaving, but then he saw that she held her breath. Perhaps she was as nervous as he was.

“Won’t you turn?” Jaime asked her softly, yearning to hold her.

“I fear that if I do, you will not really be there.” Brienne admitted shyly.

“Try it.” He urged. She could hear the love in his voice, and it gave her courage.

Brienne took a deep breath to bolster her strength. Slowly, carefully, she moved around to face him, dreading finding nothing and no one in her view. The air burst sharply from her lungs when she saw him at last, standing only a few paces from her, very much alive. His face wore the same desperate hopelessness as when they had stood together at Winterfell and she had vouched for him on her honor. Now, it was his honor she had depended upon, and he had not failed her this time. His tear filled eyes begged her to forgive him, not realizing there was no need. Her anger had subsided the moment he had ridden out of the gates of Casterly Rock weeks ago. Since then, all she had known was the intense need for him. Now, even that was calmed. He had returned to her. Gods, she loved him.

Unable to be parted any longer, as if even a few paces were unbearable, Jaime and Brienne rushed into each other’s arms. In unison they cried out for joy at the sight of each other. The magnetic force of attraction between them pulled them together. Their breath mingled in exuberant celebration, enjoying the sweet taste of each other’s lips at last. They clung together in the moon light. Their tiny son, held between them, cooed with excitement and reached for his father. Jaime broke from the tender embrace for a moment, stroking Galladon’s tiny head, and smiled as brightly at his son as the day the child was born into his arms. Tyrion was correct, his boy had grown since he had seen him last. He seemed almost a different child, and Jaime’s heart rued the time he had been gone. Then his eyes returned to Brienne’s and he lost himself in those deep blue pools, pulling her closer and kissing her passionately again.

“I’m sorry.” Brienne sobbed into his neck when their lips parted. “I should not have treated you so horribly when you left. I have regretted my behavior every moment you were away.” Brienne choked. “I should have wished you a faithful goodbye. I should have understood.” She raised her eyes to his. “I should have kissed you.” She admitted remorsefully.

Jaime brought his hand up to caress her tear lined cheek. “Kiss me, now.” He bid her with a loving smile. Brienne eagerly obliged his request. They melted into each other once more.

When their lungs begged for air, Jaime and Brienne reluctantly parted from their passion. Still wrapped in each other’s arms, they leaned into their mutual grasp, afraid their legs too weak to stand. Galladon felt his parents happiness and serenaded them with a chorus of sweet infant sounds.

“You did it.” Brienne exclaimed. “You did exactly what you swore you would.” She smiled through her joyful tears.

Jaime nodded, and stole another quick taste of her lips. “For you, My Love.” He acknowledged earnestly.

Brienne lifted her fingers and slid them along his jaw. She realized that this man whom she loved had killed his own sister, for her. “It could not have been easy.” She acquiesced gratefully.

Shaking his head, Jaime’s relief showed brightly upon his features. “On the contrary.” He comforted. “Every bit of her end was earned. It was the simplest thing I have ever done. All I had to do was think of you.” He told her her solemnly. “I felt you there with me the entire time.” He whispered, leaning his face against hers. Brienne held him close.

“I freed you.” Jaime smiled. “I freed us.” His breath slid sultry over her skin. Brienne shuttered with desire for him. “The act was completed...” He paused and stepped back. Proudly he drew Oathkeeper from his belt, and continued. “With your sword.” His eyes gleamed as Brienne beheld the shining steel of her own weapon.

“Oathkeeper.” Brienne whispered in reverence. She could barely believe her eyes once more beheld the noble weapon.

“I would not have left The Red Keep without it.” Jaime assured her. “As I once told you. It is yours. It will always be yours.” He smiled adoringly as she ran her hand over the jewel encrusted hilt, and then trailed her fingers along his. Brienne’s happy tears slid from her lashes and dropped unceremoniously upon their son’s little head. They stared at each other with love and awe.

Jaime was mesmerized by Brienne. Her nearness made him almost unable to move. Finally, nothing stood in their way. His heart burst with his longing to take her as his wife. It was then he remembered the velvet parcel he carried beneath his golden-handed arm. He slowly sheathed Oathkeeper and drew Brienne toward the rail of the balcony. She nestled close to him, unquestioningly.

They stood together, feeling their love envelope them. Then Jaime quietly turned to look at Brienne. His countenance was so serious that she almost shivered. He took the blue bejeweled bag, and holding with his good hand, he steadied it with the metal one. He lowered his head as if he stood before a goddess, and knelt before her. Brienne watched him admiringly, unable to speak or even to move.

“My Lady.” Jaime began. “My Love.” He addressed her rapturously. “Without you there is no world for me, no light, no life.” He looked up at her, heartfelt tears in his eyes. “I have suffered what it means to live in the absence of you. I have known that pain.” He shook his head regretfully. “I shall not languish in that torment ever again.” He vowed. Brienne wept at the depth of his emotion.

“I present this token at your feet as a symbol of my love for you, my fidelity, and my pledge that nothing and no one shall part us ever again.” Jaime swore to Brienne. He then rose and held the bag containing Cersei’s head out for Brienne’s inspection.

Brienne stood ghostly still studying the gift. She reached a timid hand out and rested it atop the bundle. From the shape and size of it, and the way the fabric draped it’s contents, she knew immediately what it was. For any other woman in Westeros, a severed head would have been a ghastly choice for a gift. However, she was not like other women. She herself was a Knight of the Seven Kingdoms. She had taken many heads in her day, and she needed to see this one. She needed to stare into the cold dead eyes of the thing that had tortured her and almost killed her babe, and know that the monster was dead. Jaime understood exactly how much this moment would mean to her.

“What does it hold?” She asked emotionless, already knowing the answer. Brienne was unable to take her eyes from the beautiful embroidered fabric that reminded her so much of Tarth.

“It is a rather unconventional tribute, I admit.” Jaime sighed, although he showed no embarrassment over his choice. “One I doubt you will want to keep, but one I hope you will accept in the spirit in which it is given.” He looked deeply into her eyes, his stance filled with a seriousness that left Brienne frozen in understanding. She simply returned his stare gravely and lowered her chin in one accepting nod.

Jaime took a deep breath and brought the pouch closer to him. With his good hand, he untied the loose knot that had sealed it and reached inside, his eyes fixed upon Brienne. Without hesitation he grabbed the now matted hair of the cadaverous specimen and pulled it from the wrapping. Brienne gasped as Jaime held up Cersei’s disembodied head for her to see. She drew Galladon closer to her and wrapped him in her caring embrace as if to shield him for the monsterous evil thing. She somberly studied the features of the skull. The dead Queen’s eyes, still open, stared at her. Cersei’s rigid face was dried and twisted into a deathly scowl. The remnants of her neck that remained attached were beginning to decay. For all her wrath in life, she held no power now.

After a moment Brienne’s terror stricken, horrified expression turned to vengeful relief. She regarded the head of the woman who had held her captive, had tried to cut her unborn child from her womb, and had done everything thing within her power to keep Jaime from her. To her surprise the only emotion Brienne realized she felt was joy. Although she knew she would someday face The Seven for taking such glee in the death of another, she could not help it. She was free. They were all free, and the demon who had worn the head that now dangled lifelessly from Jaime grip could never hurt them again.

“What should we do with it?” She asked, turning her gaze to Jaime. She knew she should feel pity for his sacrifice. However all she felt was pride. It was a reaction that she noted was evident upon his face as he looked past the remains of his dead sister and watched her.

“I thought, perhaps we could feed the sharks.” He offered, a sly smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

Brienne lifted her chin in acceptance of his idea. “I believe that would be a fitting end.” She agreed.

Jaime concurred and held his offering higher. “Would you care to do the honors?” He asked.

Brienne shook her head. “Not at all.” She refused. “You took it. You should have that privilege of dispatching it.” Her eyes twinkled a little too merrily, but then she noticed his were also as bright.

“Very well.” He accepted, bowing his head reverently to her.

Taking a step back to allow enough space between them, Jaime positioned Cersei’s head in his hand in order to thrust for the greatest distance. He drew his arm sharply back, and without a moment’s hesitation lobbed his prize as far out over the balcony railing as he could manage. Cersei’s head sailed into the air in a perfect wide arc. Jaime and Brienne watched as it flew out over the waves and then plummeted unceremoniously into the surf below. So far from them did it enter the ocean that they could not even hear the sound. Both imagined the last of their tormentor being devoured by the creatures of the sea. Finally, she was gone forever.

Both took a long satisfied breath, and stared at each other as if unsure what to do next. It was Jaime who decided the course. He stepped once more to Brienne’s side, and drew her around to face him. Without a word, he knelt at her feet. He gently took her hand and held it in his. She realized he was trembling, and stared at him, almost in shock.

“Ser Brienne of Tarth.” Jaime began, his voice shaking. “There truly are no word to express to how deeply and utterly I love and adore you.” His expression was far too serious for tears now. “You have given me a life I could have never dreamed of. It is one filled with love, and trust, hope and honor. You are the greatest, most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me.” His eyes searched her gaze, and found only adoration returned to him as he confessed his inner most sentiments, “I lay my heart at your feet, for it is yours. It has always been yours.” He knew she would understand the profound bonding of their souls to which his words referred. As she watched him, Brienne drew a shallow breath and held it, afraid she would dissolve into weeping at his confession.

Finally Jaime could hold his plea no longer. “Brienne?” He beseeched.  
“Will you marry me, My Love? Please, be my wife?” He asked, as if it were a prayer.

Brienne could not subdue her happy tears as she answered him from her heart. Nodding with joy, she granted his wish. “Yes. Oh yes, My dearest. I will marry you.” She had never felt such pure happiness in all her life.

Only a few moons before Brienne had been certain she would not live to see the birth of her child, now her entire life lay out before her with Jaime and with Galladon. She realized she was trembling with joy. Brienne’s pure bliss was matched only by Jaime’s elation as he took her in his arms and celebrated their promise with a long soft kiss. He never wanted to release her from his loving arms.

“I love you.” He told her, resting his face against her, drinking her in.

Brienne melted into his embrace, savoring the feel of him. “I love you.” She answered, the look of adoration in his eyes warming her heart. She cherished the life they were just beginning together.

Galladon chose that moment to wriggle in his mother’s arms. He intended to remind his parents of his presence and join in their jubilation. Their laughter rang like music along the balcony as they appeased he child’s need with the utmost care and glee. He reveled in their delight. Beaming with joy, Jaime kissed Galladon’s forehead and smiled widely at him.

“That is right, My Son.” Jaime laughed, proudly basking in his boy’s tiny smile. “A celebration is in order.” He agreed. “Your Mother has made me the happiest man in the world.” His eyes turned again to Brienne as the last words left his mouth. He clasped both of them tightly and pressed his lips to Brienne’s once more, before straightening to enjoy the image of them.

Suddenly, Brienne’s gaze widened, and she caught her breath. Looking worriedly at Jaime, she was almost fearful. “We will need my father’s blessing.” She voiced with concern. “What if he is displeased, and refuses to give his approval?” She still could not imagine what The Evenstar’s reaction would be to Jaime, to Galladon, and the news that she had bore him a grandchild without the vows of marriage.

Jaime smiled understandingly at her. He knew very well how overjoyed Lord Selwyn had been to learn of his daugter’s safe return, and of his heir. He was eager to share his last surprise with Brienne. “I do not believe that will be a problem?” Jaime squeezed her arms excitedly. “Wait here.” He told her, turning quickly and vanishing back inside the solar to retrieve his as yet concealed guest. Brienne stood watching after him, confusion racing through her brain. Galladon shrank against her, not understanding why his father had suddenly disappeared again.

Brienne stood motionless, her stare penetrating the darkened interior of the chamber. She wondered what else Jaime could have in store for her. As she waited, Brienne’s mind recounted what a glorious day it had turned out to be. Finally, Jaime had returned to her. The sun had set upon her sadness again earlier that very evening. She had prepared herself to settle her son into his bed, and then cry herself to sleep as she had done for weeks. Now, everything had changed and she intended to hold onto this blessing with all her might. She prayed that her own father would acknowledge and accept her marriage. Brienne knew that he held little respect for “The Kingslayer.” Somehow, she hoped she could make The Evenstar understand the honorable man that Jaime truly was, and how much she loved him. She so desperately did not wish to lose her father’s affection, or his approval. However, no matter what his thoughts on her marriage or the paternity of her child, she had no intention of losing Jaime ever again.

As Brienne waited, cradling her babe on her arms, the sea breeze tried its best to calm her fears. At last, she saw a figure stir within the doorway through which Jaime had entered only moments before. She brightened immediately assuming it was him. Brienne took a step forward and stopped in her tracks. She realized the whomever it it was that approached was slightly taller than her newly betrothed lover. His hair shown white as the moonlight reflected off of it, even from within the the castle. Recognition flashed in Brienne’s eyes, and her breath caught in her throat as The Evenstar strode regally out into the night to greet her. Jaime followed him only a step behind, his smiling eyes taking in the site of Brienne’s surprise, and her joy.

“Father!” Brienne exclaimed rushing into his open arms. She cuddled Galladon to her. The boy seemed to realize that the stranger who reached for his mother was somehow very special to her, and to him. Brienne’s fears of only moments prior evaporated like salt water into the air when she saw her father’s loving concern. His relief upon finding her alive radiated from him like warm sunshine.

Lord Selwyn enveloped his daughter in his protective grasp. “Oh my precious, darling girl.” He closed his eyes and held her to him. Brienne had never seen her father weep openly. Not even when every other member of their family had been taken so cruelly from them had he revealed his bitter sobs to her. Tonight, with his beloved daughter returned to him, he found no means to control his emotions. His happy tears flowed like rain. As did Brienne’s.

Selwyn looked down at the babe who studied him intently from his dauther’s arms. His heart instantly melted with love. “Who do we have here?” He chuckled fondly, caressing the boy’s soft head. There was not a hint of disapproval in his voice.

Brienne gazed lovingly at her child. Swallowing hard, and fighting her sobbing, she introduced Lord Selwyn to his heir. “This is your grandson, Father.” She announced sweetly. “We have named him Galladon.” She said proudly as her eyes traveled to Jaime. Brienne grinned adoringly at her baby’s father while her own lost himself in the enjoyment of his child’s child, the very namesake of his own boy, who had so long ago been lost.

Jaime stood beside them, watching the tender reunion with pride. Seeing Brienne safe in her father’s arms was one of the greatest treasures he had known. He was happy he could bring her this gift. Her joy meant more to him than any title, and victory in battle, any reputation.

Brienne turned to Jaime, amazed at the depths of his love for her. “This is what took you so long to return?” She acknowledged, reaching her hand out to him. Jaime accepted it and held her fingers tightly in his grip.

“You wanted to see your father.” Jaime told her, taking no credit, as if it were the only the course of action available to him. If all of the stars in the heavens were her heart’s desire, he would give his life to lay them all before her. Brienne stared at him in amazement, not feeling at all worthy of his selfless caring.

Lord Selwyn’s pained voice brought Brienne’s attention back to him. She saw the heartache in his eyes. “Why did you not send word...that you were safe, that you had born a child?” He questioned with an agonizing dread.

Brienne lowered her gaze, and studied her babe, remembering how terrified she had been that her father would deny them both. It took a moment for her to find enough voice to answer. “I feared you might not receive the news happily.” She admitted in a whisper, realizing how wrong she had been, and unable to meet his eyes.

The Evenstar was reminded of his judgmental words over the years at the circumstances of others. He had often decided a person’s worth by consequences with which they were to endure. Many of his declarations had been made within Brienne’s earshot. How he wished he could now take them all back. Of course she would assume, that the same admonition would be leveled against her. It broke his heart to think that his own child had feared he would think her reputation anything but spotless, her babe anything less than a blessing.

Lord Selwyn reached out and touched Brienne’s cheek, his guilt shadowing his expression. “I have made my child feel that she would be unmwelcomed in her own home.” He shook his head ruefully at his actions. “Forgive me Daughter.” He begged. “You and your well-being, and that of your son, are the only things that matter to me in this world.” He fought himself not to break down.

“Oh Father.” Brienne whispered. “I should have known.” She chastised herself for having so little faith in her father’s love and protection.

Selwyn shrugged off any thought of Brienne blaming herself. “The fault is mine, Dear Child.” He lamented, staring at Brienne and Galladon. He could barely believe they stood only inches from him. “You have been returned to me, thanks to Ser Jaime.” He smiled at the man his daughter loved. The man who had saved her and her child.

Brienne’s graced Jaime with another loving look before again addressing Lord Selwyn. “Father.” She sighed joyfully. “Ser Jaime has asked me to marry him.” She laid her hand upon her father’s broad chest. “I have accepted his proposal.” She smiled bashfully, turning from Lord Selwyn to Jaime and back again. “We would be honored if you would grace us with your blessing.” She sighed.

Leaning forward, Lord Selwyn kissed her forehead and considered her words. His face broke into a wide grin. “My darling. I already have.” He told her proudly.

Brienne’s attempts to keep her sobs at bay crumbled, and she happily embraced Lord Selwyn. “Thank you. Thank you, Father.” She beamed.

He kissed her hair, and turned her in his arms toward Jaime. Taking her hand, he presented it to the man that was to become his daughter’s husband, who was already the father of his grandson. Then he held out his arms, eager to hold Galladon. Brienne softly deposited her babe into the reassuring grasp of one of the few people to whom she would entrust him. He stepped aside to allow Jaime and Brienne a moment together. Galladon was already playing with a handful of the old man’s beard, and Lord Selwyn lost himself in getting know his heir.

Jaime took Brienne’s hand, and held it tightly to his heart as he wrapped his arm around her. She favored him with the twinkle in her eyes. She marveled that he had brought her the one thing she had wanted most, her father, “Thank you.” She hailed him, nestling close to him.

Jaime rested his face against Brienne’s. “I would do anything for you. My Love.” He swore. He had done just that.

Brienne thought about the reality of the feats he had accomplished in the weeks that had passes. He truly had undertaken the unthinkable and succeeded. He he had done it all for her. “I know.” She smiled. “I should never have doubted you.” Her eyes filled with regret.

Jaime held her closer. “That is over.” He kissed her forehead. “We shall think on it no more.” Brienne nodded, too overcome to speak.

Lord Selwyn interrupted them a booming laugh of agreement. “Of course we will not.” He declared. “There is a wedding to plan.” His happy grin was contagious as Jaime and Brienne returned it with smiles of their own. Even tiny Galladon cooed his affirmative.  
——————————-  
The remainder of the evening was a joyous celebration in itself. Somehow the kitchens had prepared a sumptuous feast on Tyrion’s last minute orders. The meal was set on the same balcony where Jaime had proposed to Brienne. Lord Selwyn and his future son-in-law competed amiably with each other most of the night to be the one to cradle Galladon. Eventually, Jaime conceded and chose Brienne to fill his arms. Both men agreed they had never seen her more gleeful or content. She laughed at Tyrion’s jokes, cheerfully begged her father not to recount embarrassing tales of her youth, and blushed as Jaime recounted the night of Galladon’s birth. So happy and carefree was the gathering that not a soul realized or remembered that Cersei’s head was providing a feast of it’s own to the ocean creatures below them. Even the moon and stars above seemed to join in their merriment.

When the food had been devoured, the wine drained, and little Galladon had given up the last of his desperate attempt to remain awake, Jaime and Brienne bid their good nights, and left Lord Selwyn and Tyrion immersed in their conversation. They chuckled to themselves at the scene of her father and his brother suddenly as thick as thieves, discussing everything from history and politics to wine and women. They were enjoying themselves immensely.

The couple walked slowly back to their chambers, lost in each other. Brienne held an exhausted Galladon in her arms, and sank into Jaime’s embrace as they strolled. Suddenly, Casterly Rock seemed a much happier place. It was almost as if the very walls themselves had shed layers of mire and pain. If they had not know better, Brienne and Jaime would have sworn that after ages of holding stale air within its lungs, the fortress was drawing breath once more.

When they finally reached their quarters, Jaime led Brienne to a comfortable chair beside the warm glowing hearth. Galladon had stirred a bit and had just enough strength left to partake in a short nursing before falling deeply asleep. Jaime sat beside them and regarded them with awe. Brienne smiled at him adoringly and reached for his hand. He clung to her fingers like a drowning man, lifting them to his lips and kissing each one. Brienne could not take her eyes from his face, so happy she was that he had been returned to her.

Before she knew it, Galladon had found his peaceful slumber, his head falling against her breast. “I think he’s asleep.” Jaime whispered in her ear enticingly.

Brienne nodded slowly, and bit her lip, still unable to draw her eyes from his. “We should put him to bed.” She suggested coyly.

He leaned in and brought his lips to hers, kissing her long and slow and with all the passion he had held for her in the weeks he was away. “I could not agree more.” He concurred as he reluctantly pulled his lips from hers. His tone and his expression promising so much more.

Jaime helped Brienne stand, her arms filled with their son. He noticed that she had left the bodice of her gown open, and his eyes trailed down her enticing form. Together they entered the nursery and laid their child carefully into his bassinet. The proud parents watched their son for a moment, their breathing timing itself to the rising and falling of his tiny chest. Jaime moves his hand up Brienne’s arm, across her neck, and into her hair as she reclined against him. Softly, he worked his lips over her neck. Brienne’s body shuttered with desire at the feeling.

He gently lowered the open neckline of her gown, revealing her smooth shoulder to him. He hungrily moved his mouth across her skin, tasting the creamy sweetness. She draped her arm backward around his neck and tossled his hair with her fingers. Wrapping Brienne in his embrace, Jaime nimbly slipped his left hand into the open front of her garment. He quietly thanked the Gods that Brienne was not one for restricting herself with the rigid corsets that most high born ladies insisted upon. His greedy hand clutched the firm flesh of her breasts. Brienne sighed in ecstasy as he pinched and rolled her hard sensitive nipples between his fingers.

Lustfully, he spun her around to face him. She would have gasped with delight, but his mouth found hers and kissed away any noise she could make. He pushed the rest of her gown down around her waist and drew her arms from the fabric. She stood before him, breasts bared, gloriously to his scrutiny. He smiled, finding nothing at all lacking. For a moment his mind traveled back across time to the first moment his eyes had beheld her naked form. He smiled, picturing her standing quickly from the bath at Harrenhal, her anger raised as tall and powerful as had his cock at the sight of her. He reveled that her body had the same affect of him now.

She noticed how he smiled and thought he was laughing. “What?” She could not help but snicker in reply.

Jaime’s face reddened, as it had when her image was burned indelibly into his mind. “I am simply remembering the first time I beheld the magnificence of your lovely body. He grinned, and quickly tasted the dip of her collarbone.

Brienne knew exactly to what he referred. She recalled how he had fallen into her arms, and she had never wanted to let him go. “Was I truly that memorable?” She teased.

Jaime looked into her eyes with all seriousness. “The thought of you comforted me many nights, until you were in my arms.” He admitted. She smiled, satisfied that it was her about whom he fantasized. This time it was she who reached for a passionate kiss.

Brienne felt Jaime’s hard erection against her hip, and her body answered his wordless call with a warm wet slick between her legs. Her fingers fumbled with his belt, and the drawstring at his waist until she had his clothing open to her wanting hands. She tore his tunic off over his head, and reached down the front of his britches to clasp his long hard cock, working him back and forth until he groaned with pleasure. Jaime exuded sublime ecstasy, with his head falling back and a smile resting on his face. She met his call with a sweet moan from her own throat. It felt as though it had been years since she had felt him, rather than only a few weeks. Gods, she needed him.

He lifted his head, and searched for her lips, parting them with his tongue. Again, their calls filled the little nursery as they tasted each other. Their tongues sought each other as if they would never be able to get enough. Brienne pulled her hand from his britches, and took hold of his fingers. She led him into the sleeping chambers, her eyes heavy with longing. Jaime was thoroughly relishing her take charge posture. He would have given her anything she wanted. All she wanted was him.

Brienne stopped in front of the fire, and loosed the last few ties at the waist of her gown, letting the luxurious silken fabric fall to the floor. Jaime stood watching her, his breath bursting achingly from his lungs. Brienne’s passion grew as her body warmed by the fire, and she stared at the man she loved. He stepped closer to her, and kissed her enticing lips again. His mouth then worked downward to savor her breasts. With the flick of his wrist he tore the small cloth from her hips. Her sweet wetness trailed down her legs and almost to the floor at the feel of his mouth upon her skin. The chorus of her pleasure rose from her like the most beautiful music Jaime had ever heard.

He took her hand and began to lead her toward the bed. She held fast where she stood, stopping his momentum. His eyes watched her, questioning. Brienne shook her head slowly, and drew him to her. “No.” She told him. “Here.” Her eyes sparkled in the firelight. “Now.” She ordered.

Jaime wasted no time stripping himself of his loosened britches and small cloth, and depositing the articles across the room with the quick toss. He then, eagerly returned his attentions to Brienne. Hungrily he pressed his body against her, feeling the rise and fall of her heavy breathing against his bare chest. “How I have yearned for you.” He spoke haltingly between famished kisses. “I have dreamed of you every moment since I left.” He told her.

She said nothing. She would let her body tell him everything she feared her words too inadequate to express. She simply stared at him, and pulled him down with her onto the heavy fur which covered the floor beside the hearth. He gently settled himself above her, and searched her mouth with his once more. Her fingers traced the curves of his back, clutching sharper as he laid more heavily atop her frame. Brienne spread her legs a bit, beckoning him inside her.

Jaime would accept her invitation, but first he would make her want him even more. Supporting himself upon his stumped arm, he ran his good hand along the length of Brienne’s lean waist. He softly licked her lips, and then swirled his tongue into the sweetness of her mouth. His fingers found their target between her legs. Her back arched in excited pleasure as he played the nerves there, bringing her to a near frenzy and eliciting a high pitched howl from her which made him wild with desire. He drove further, his fingers lost in her soft velvety folds. She clung to him desperately and deepened their kiss as she moaned a plea for him to go deeper. He readily complied, and buried two fingers deep inside her. She writhed with bliss as he stretched and turned his fingers against her private walls. Brienne could not contain her cries of passion as Jaime brought her to the edge. Suddenly her muscles tightened and her body pulsed sharply with the strength of her orgasm, sending a rush of hot wetness over his hand. She smiled breathlessly at him. He raised his fingers to his lips and tasted her.

“Sweeter than any wine in The Realm.” He boasted. She bit her lip and looked at him with wide eyes. So adorable was she to him that he could not resist kissing her soft sweet mouth yet again.

The need in him grew as he felt himself becoming thicker and harder at the the nearness of her. His eyes sought her approval. She granted it with a nod. Brienne brought her knees upward to welcome him inside her. Jaime lowered himself again and entered her slowly, delighting in every sweet inch of her. She closed her eyes in rapture, and bent her head backward as her back arched even more strongly. “Oh.” She moaned softly and slowly as his body matched hers perfectly. He answered her with his own low guttural groan.

Their hot breath mingled together, their eyes never leaving each other. He did not rush, there was no need. She was his forever. Softly, carefully, he began to move back and forth, in and out. His surging passion making her nearly scream with pleasure. The hard floor beneath the fur upon which Brienne lay provided the necessary resistance for her to meet him with a rhythm of her own. The force of her body against him brought such a pleasured pain that euphoric cries rose from Jaime’s own throat. Brienne’s hands gripped tight to his arms and then moved to his back, desperately digging into his skin. He loved the sensation. She needed more of him, and raised her hips to him driving him deeper and harder into her.

“Oh Gods!” She swore. “Don’t ever stop!” She begged desperately.

The needful tone of her voice, and her warm soft breath on his neck created an overwhelming urge in him, and he advanced and retreated into her with hard grinding thrusts. She reacted to every movement with a sharp cry of passion that told him she loved what he was doing to her. He clutched her to him as he rocked hard against her. Her lips quivered as she felt herself ready to explode. He too felt the overwhelming need to fill her.

With a burst of strength, and a sharp wanting cry from Brienne, Jaime came hard inside her. She met his final thrust with her own orgasm, her body tense and shaking with the pleasure he gave her. They held tightly to each other as their bodies tried to calm from the intensity of their love making. Finally, unable to support his shaking limbs any longer, Jaime retreated from within Brienne and settled himself at her side, gathering her in his arms. She nestled against him, draping her leg over his thigh. They lay there still in the warm glow of the fire trying to catch their breath.

Brienne laid her head against Jaime’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Her eyes were dreamy and distant, as if she could scarcely believe it was all real. “I love you.” She told him tenderly.

Jaime stroked Brienne’s hair, and held her close to him. “I love you.” He answered, raising his neck and kissing her hair. His eyes held the same disbelieving wonder. “And soon you will be my wife.” He celebrated. Brienne burrowed even tighter to him, cherishing his words, as the image settled over her. She lost herself in dreams of the life with him she did not think she would ever see. Thrilled and exhausted from their passions, Brienne and Jaime fell fast asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of Brienne and Jaime’s wedding has finally arrived. The couple is forced to spend it apart, preparing in very different ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry there has been such a delay in getting this chapter out. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> I took some liberties with information about Brienne’s mother, since not much is known. Hope you like what I did with it.
> 
> *This chapter is dedicated to the late Sean Connery, my inspiration for Brienne’s father, Lord Selwyn.

Soft morning sunlight streamed through the windows of the bedchamber that Brienne and Jaime shared. A quiet, lazy anticipation hung in the air for the events of the day to come. The sunrise itself paled in comparison to the happiness the couple had already found, and which would be celebrated that very evening. When next they awakened in the sunrise of a new day, they would be husband and wife.

Jaime awoke in his favorite posture, his arms wrapped around Brienne, her face nestling against his neck. He breathed in the glorious aroma of her hair, and felt her soft breath tickle his skin. Kissing her temple, he pulled her even closer to him, the same perpetual love-drunk smile resting upon his features as had been there since he had retuned to Brienne at Casterly Rock from ridding them of the scourge that was his sister. It was upon their reuniting that Brienne had agreed to become his wife. Their betrothal had been several weeks earlier. The wait had been interminable for both Jaime and Brienne. They would have been just as pleased to stand before the septon the very night of their betrothal, but Tyrion had insisted upon presenting them with a proper wedding, and demanded that the preparations be carried out to the letter.

Lord Selwyn had remained on at Casterly Rock as the Lannister’s honored guest, and would present his beloved daughter in matrimony to Jaime. He soon joined Tyrion in ensuring that all would be perfect. Their discussions and disagreements encompassed all of the aspects of a noble wedding, and ran the course from guest list to flower arrangements. Jaime and Brienne found the discourse quite amusing, and understood how much the festivities meant to his brother and her father. The bride and groom would not have taken the joy of the planning from them for anything. Watching the details of their wedding being decided between the Lords of Evenfall and Casterly Rock became an entertaining daily show for the couple.

This morning, Jaime’s loving kiss upon her temple rousted Brienne from her peaceful slumber. She drew a deep refreshing breath, stretching the sleep from her body, and smiled sweetly at him. “Hmmmm.” She sighed, enjoying his nearness. It had become their practice to enjoy the first moments of their mornings, before their babe awakened, passionately welcoming each other back from their dreams which had been equally filled with the other. Of course, their mutual appreciation often became ardent love making. Jaime was hoping this morning would be no different.

“Good morning, My Love.” He growled lowly into Brienne’s ear. She answered him with a soft, expectant moan of her own, grinding her hips closer into him. She, too, was looking forward to their usual morning routine. Their lips met, breaking their fast of each other in the most delicious way.

Jaime moved his weight atop Brienne, pinning her to the mattress, and deepened his kiss upon her lips. She accepted his amorous motions with the utmost pleasure. A small, giggle escaped her throat at his adorable need for her. She loved it. She loved him.

Feigning, injured feelings, Jaime pulled from her embrace. “What?” He chuckled at her tiny laugh.

“Nothing.” Brienne grinned, her fingers sliding down the muscles of his arms.

“Don’t give me that.” Jaime pouted. “You laughed.” He continued, enjoying his little game, and growing more aroused all the while.

“I did not laugh.’ Brienne acted hurt, although she was becoming wet at the feel of his excitement for her upon the sensitive nerves between her legs.

Jaime reached in for one more quick kiss, and then renewed his protests. “You did.” He complained, sticking out his chin in exaggerated defiance. “You laughed.” He brushed his mouth harder against hers to emphasize his point, and then eyed her, pretending to be suspicious.

Brienne bit her lower lip, trying to hold onto the taste of Jaime’s kiss. She rolled her eyes, cooing at him as her leg moved around his hip. “I was just remembering...” She began, pausing to enjoy the image in her mind, and arching her back seductively. “The first time I awoke in your arms.” She reminisced.

Jaime lowered his head, laying his face against Brienne’s. This time, he joined her in laughter, and the shared memory. “At Winterfell.” He nodded. “After the feast.”

Brienne’s smile grew wider as she regarded him. He raised his head to meet her gaze. “You were holding me so tight, I woke up because I could barely breath.” She said wistfully. “You were still sound asleep.” She brought her hand up to hold his face, and stared adoringly into his eyes.

“Even in my sleep I feared something would happen to you.” Jaime lamented raising. The tears stung his eye as he thought of all that had occurred after. “Then I left you, and something did.” He admonished himself, his grief like a cloud settled above them.

Brienne’s heart nearly shattered at his guilt. She drew his face closer to hers. “Don’t.” She warned. “Do not dare regret our time there.” She implored. “Those nights were the beginning of us.” She reminded him.

“They were nearly our end.” Jaime whispered remorsefully.

Brienne shook her head. “But they were not.” She corrected, holding his hand atop her own heart. “We are here.” The smile returned softly to her face. “Our days there were some of the happiest of my life.” She told him. “Those days brought you to me.” Brienne pressed his hand harder to the racing beating within her chest. “Those days made our son.” She beamed pridefully at the thought of their child, who now slept peacefully only a few steps from them. “I will never be sorry for it.” Brienne reached up and kissed Jaime forcefully, her heart bursting with devotion.

Jaime rested his forehead against Brienne’s for a moment, and then at last returned her joyful smile. “And today, I make you my wife.” He gloried, wrapping himself around her and reveling in the kiss they shared.

No sooner had Jaime and Brienne begun to explore the familiar plains and angles of each other’s bodies, then a loud knocking beat upon the door to their bedchamber.

Jaime rolled his eyes, buried his face in Brienne’s breasts and groaned. The shaking of her body, as she stifled her amusement sent him sprawling back upon the pillows. “Go Away!” He shouted at whomever was interrupting their morning pleasures. Jaime’s command was met only by another sharp rapping upon the closed panel.

Brienne gazed at him sympathetically. “We should see who it is.” She ran her fingers down his arm, where he caught them in his hand. He brought her palm to his lips and kissed it, his mouth resting their for a moment. “Your wish is my command, Beloved.” He smiled sleepily back at her.

Jaime rose from the sheets, He threw a light tunic over his chest and dragged his breeches up his legs to cover his nakedness. A little pout escaped Brienne’s throat at the disappearance of his form beneath the fabric. The sound of it only made him want her more. Jaime grabbed his boots from where he had hurriedly discarded them the evening before, and held them in front of himself to cover his protruding arousal for Brienne as he padded the short distance to the door.

Jaime was barely able to open the door before five women of the household, including Brienne’s two personal maids came bursting through the threshold, fabrics, and trays, and laces, and flowers in hand. “Begging your pardon, Ser Jaime, but you’ll have to leave now.” The eldest and most in-charge of the group informed him, matter-of-factory. From the other room, Galladon, awakened by the commotion began to cry loudly for the attentive care of his parents to which he was accustomed.

“Oh?” Jaime questioned the gleeful group, a little bit shocked, and slightly upset. He crossed his arms indignantly. Brienne, sat up against her pillows, gathered the quilts around her and watched. She was just as disappointed as Jaime, but was immensely enjoying his protesting.

“Forgive us, Ser.” The house maid realized she had offended her master. “But, we must begin preparing Lady Brienne for the ceremony.” She explained.

Jaime regarded the women with annoyance. “It’s at sunset.” He gestured incredulously.

“Lord Tyrion’s orders.” The younger of Brienne’s maids told him, as she laid a tray of delicacies by the bedside for her mistress to break her fast. Brienne eyed the plates mounded high with all sorts of delicious temptations, and only grimaced. The sight and smell of the food brought on a wave of unexpected nausea. Her stomach had been turning for days.

“Not to your liking, My Lady?” The girl asked, eager to bring her mistress anything that would please her.

Brienne looked bashful and a bit embarrassed. “I don’t think I am very hungry.” She admitted, laying her hand over her stomach, trying to calm the churning within. “I’m not feeling quite myself, today.” She tried to sound unconcerned.

Jaime’s head whirled around toward Brienne in worry. “What?” He questioned her. “Why did you not tell me that you were not well? Is there something wrong?” He had no wish to hide the panic in his voice.

“Nerves, I’m sure.” The housemaid nearest Jaime replied for her, and stepped between him and the bed, blocking his path to Brienne. The woman’s explanation made sense, however Jaime could not help but worry.

“You say this is my brother’s doing?” He asked, repressing the urge to roll his eyes.

The older woman addressing Jaime nodded. “Yes, Ser.” She agreed. “He made it quite clear that this is the bride’s day, and we are to pamper her and see to her every need.” She smiled, hopefully.

Jaime’s could feel the anger cooling in his chest. He could not argue with Tyrion’s decree. There was nothing he would want more for Brienne than to be indulged, her every need seen to, her every want a priority especially on her wedding day. He suddenly felt overwhelming gratitude to the women standing ready to make Brienne the center of attention, even though he was fairly sure she would hate it.

Another tiny cry from Galladon, brought Jaime’s attention to the other side of the room.

“Might I at least see to my son?” He asked the women, not quite ready to let them know his wrath had been assuaged.

“No need, Ser.” One of Brienne’s young maids called emerging from the nursery, the wriggling infant in arms. She quickly crossed the room and laid the babe at Brienne’s breast.

Brienne smiled lovingly at her child, who began to suckle greedily. Her happy eyes traveled from her babe to the man who was to become her husband. Jaime returned her adoring gaze, and wanted nothing more than to give her this special day. There was no time for him to revel in Brienne’s gleaming smile, as he was rushed from the room by two of her entourage. He spun quickly around for a final glimpse of Brienne as he was shoved unceremoniously into the corridor. She was watching him as well, returning his admiration.

Brienne blew a kiss to him across the distance. ‘I love you.’ Jaime mouthed back before the door shut in his face.  
——————————  
Jaime sighed dejectedly. He leaned against the wall and pulled on his tunic and boots before storming off to unleash his annoyance upon Tyrion. The elder Lannister found his brother breaking his fast on the balcony just off his solar. He was enjoying a sumptuous feast. Jaime could not help but notice there were three places set with silver service at the table.

“Was this your idea?” He demanded, only half pretending to be furious. “Are you the one who had me thrown out of my own quarters? Had me practically forcibly removed from my marriage bed?” He glared.

“You’re not married yet.” Tyrion remarked, disinterested in Jaime’s ire. He did not even look up at his brother, his attention fixed on the puddle of jam he was smearing over a toasty crust of bread.

“Still.” Jaime continued. “It would have been nice to spend the morning of our wedding with Brienne.” He pouted. “We will be separated for most the day as it is.” Jaime lamented, settling heavily into one of the empty chairs with a thud.

“You’ll survive.” Tyrion answered, amused at Jaime’s anxiety. “Have something to eat.” He offered, smiling widely. “We have a big day ahead of us.” His mind was already swirling with plans.

Before Jaime could wonder at Tyrion’s excitement, they were interrupted by Lord Selwyn’s boisterous arrival on the balcony. “Good Morning, Lord Tyrion, Ser Jaime.” He smiled jubilanty. “A glorious sunrise, befitting an even more grand day.” His happy countenance made The Evenstar seem years younger.

“Good morning, to you, My Lord.” Jaime answered happily, pleased to see Lord Selwyn’s joyous mood.

“My Lord.” Tyrion bowed his chin and gestured to the waiting seat.

Selwyn eagerly obliged, and lowered himself onto the chair which provided the best view of the ocean. A servant rushed over to the table obediently, his arms filled by a tray laden with eggs and sausages. Lord Selwyn accepted several of the offerings, and the young man served him a large portion to break his fast.

“And how is my daughter this morning?” The elder knight eyed Jaime knowingly.

Although Jaime knew that Lord Selwyn was well aware he had spent every night with Brienne since they had been reunited, he still felt like an adolescent being caught in a dalliance. He reddened a bit to be under the scrutiny of her father. “She is well.” Jaime cleared his throat, and hoped that her ill feeling of earlier had vanished. “I fear it is her stomach that will bear the brunt of today’s festivities. Nervous butterflies, I believe they call it.” He smiled wistfully, and wanted nothing more than to hold Brienne until her troubled mind was soothed.

Selwyn nodded understandingly. “I shall check on her when we have finished here.” He promised. “I have a gift that I very much want to present to her.” The Evenstar smiled. “I sent for it from Tarth.” He said proudly.

Jaime was certain that Brienne would honored to have something of her home presented to her on this special day. He was also thankful that her welfare would be seen to. “Thank you, My Lord.” He lowered his chin gratefulIy. “I am sure she will be delighted.” He told Lord Selwyn.

“Lord Selwyn.” Tyrion interrupted. “Once you have ensured Lady Brienne’s health, would you join me in the Great Hall?” He asked hopefully.

“Of course.” Selwyn agreed, eagerly, giving Tyrion a knowing smirk.

The collusion between his brother and soon-to-be father-in-law was not lost on Jaime. “What are you two about?” He eyed them with weary amusement.

“Us?” Tyrion whined, wasting his best attempt to seem shocked. Lord Selwyn was suddenly overly quiet.

“Tyrion!” Jaime glared at him.

Throwing up his hands, Tyrion surrendered. “What kind of Lord would I be if I did not give my brother and his bride the grandest wedding the Westerlands have ever seen?” He beseeched innocently.

Jaime rolled his eyes. He was well aware of Tyrion’s grandiose tendencies. “No.” He ordered. “Brienne and I do not wish our joining to be an extravagant affair.” He instructed.

“Just a few well deserved touches.” Tyrion covered. “Do you not wish Brienne to have the best of everything?” He turned the tables in front Brienne’s father.

“I wish for Brienne to have the wedding she wants.” Jaime declared. “Lord Selwyn.” He looked hopefully at The Evenstar. “Do you not agree that she would hate a garish display?” Jaime questioned, trying to find an ally.

“Well.” Selwyn thought for a moment. “My daughter certainly does not take pleasure in being at the center of attention.” He conceded, but before Jaime could celebrate a victory, Selwyn seemed to warm to Tyrion’s idea. “However, a lady does only marry once.” He acquiesced.

Jaime’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He could see he was losing this battle. “Tyrion.” He grumbled. “I swear, one sign of ostentatiousness, and we will ride for Lannisport this night, and be married in the town sept.” He swore.

“You will do no such thing!” Tyrion promised him, growing agitated at Jaime’s resistance. Jaime met his boldness with an iron will of his own. Lord Selwyn sat back, deciding it was best to stay out of the disagreement. He busied himself finishing his meal, restless to see to Brienne.

Neither Jaime, nor Tyrion wanted to be the first to back down. They stared at each other across the table. It was Tyrion who blinked first. “Very well.” He conceded. “Nothing too outrageous.” He gave Jaime a conciliatory grin, knowing full well he was still planning on as much lavish grandeur as he could manage for the evening’s festivities.

“Wonderful. It is settled then.” Lord Selwyn cheered, before the brothers could come to blows. Jaime and Tyrion relaxed, at the urging of their guest. “Now, if you will excuse me.” The Evenstar, offered, wiping the corners of his mouth and laying his napkin on the table. “I am off to attend to my daughter.” He smiled broadly as he stood.

Tyrion followed suit, pushing his half untouched plate away. “I shall attend to the details.” He bowed. “Lord Selwyn, if you will meet later in the Great Hall?” He asked.

“Delighted to.” Selwyn agreed, nodding to the Lannister brothers, and then made his way to the open door and inside the castle.

Tyrion lingered a moment longer, regarding Jaime with a cursious scowl. “Do try to enjoy the rest of your day.” He quipped. “Do not worry about a thing.” He assured his brother, cupping his fingers in front of him. “All is in good hand.” He smiled, before leaving along the same path that Brienne’s father had taken.

Jaime, left alone to wonder what he would find waiting for himself and his bride that evening, rested his elbow on the table and his chin in his palm. He retrieved an uneaten crisp of bacon from Tyrion’s abandoned plate and chewied it stiffly. “That is exactly what I am afraid of.” He said to himself, rolling his eye.  
—————————  
“I wish you would eat something, My Lady.” Her young, nervous maid implored Brienne, as she arose from the warm fragrant bath the group of servants had prepared for her next to the hearth.

With a thoughtful look, Brienne politely declined, again. “It all looks so nice, and I am sure you went to such trouble to prepare it.” She thanked them, wrapping her dressing gown around her, and sinking luxuriously onto the bed. “But, I really don’t think I could keep it down.” Although being the center of attention had never appealed to Brienne, she had not expected her duties as a bride to affect her so physically. The truth was, she had been of the verge of vomiting for several days. She was shocked that such a happy occasion should cause her so much distress.

“I shall fetch the Maester for you.” Another of the girls offered, already heading toward the door. “Perhaps he might have some herbs to settle your stomach.” The eager young maid called over her shoulder.

“Of course. Thank you.” Brienne smiled. Truthfully, she would welcome some relief from the churning in her belly.

As if to take his mother’s mind off the ill feeling that threatened to climb up her throat, Galladon fussed and began to wail in the arms of the older woman who had been charged with his care. Brienne smiled, and held her arms opens wide to comfort her son. “My sweet boy.” She whispered as her lips nestled against his head, quieting the babe instantly. He nuzzled close to Brienne, soothed from the commotion of the giddy females who surrounded him.

No sooner had Brienne settled against the pillows, embracing her child, than a soft tapping on the door brought a thoughtful smile to her eyes. She had been wondering how long it would be before Jaime tried to regain admittance to their bedchamber. She chuckled, and slid off the bed, holding Galladon close as she walked slowly to the door. Part of her was enjoying keeping her soon-to-be husband waiting.

Brienne closed her eyes in glee and reveled in the sly grin that would greet her beloved when she opened the door. “You simply cannot bear to be away from me for a moment, can you?” Brienne teased as she flung the door open.

“I have missed you more than I could ever describe, each moment you were gone from our house.” Lord Selwyn’s deep voice answered. “However, I doubt this warm welcome was meant for me.” He laughed as he stood in the doorway, holding a thick, lovely parcel.

Brienne jumped in startled embarrassment to find her father and not her lover on the other side of the door. “Father!” She exclaimed, half surprised, and half mortified. “I, I thought you were...” She trailed off, hoping her father would not notice how her eyes flitted down the passageway searching for another.

“You thought it was Ser Jaime at your door.” He smiled understandingly, taking his daughter in his arms and kissing her forehead. Galladon wriggled with glee at the presence of his grandfather, and Brienne deposited her joyful babe into her father’s protective arms.

“I was hoping to get the chance to speak with you before the rush of the day begins.” Lord Selwyn announced entering her suite as Brienne stood back and opened the door wider. “Privately.” He said kindly but firmly, his tone directed at the other women in the room. They understood, and curtsied respectively as they hurried toward the door.

Brienne gave her attendants a grateful smile as they exited, and turned her attention to her father. She took his arm and led him further into the room. “I am glad you’re here.” Brienne smiled warmly, holding tightly to the arm that was not filled with a cooing babe.

“As am I, my darling girl.” The Evenstar affirmed, and held her in his loving gaze. His heart skipped a beat thinking of how much Brienne reminded him of her mother. Lord Selwyn brought his hand up to hold Brienne’s cheek. He felt as though he wanted to turn back time, and keep his daughter closer to him, so nothing would ever hurt her. He would do so many things differently.

Selwyn noticed the splendid light blue gown embellished with gold and silver threads and trimmed in rare fur hanging at the ready on the door of the wardrobe across the room. He looked bashfully down at the package he carried. “I know your seamstresses have tailored a magnificent wedding dress for you.” He cleared his throat and almost stuttered as he spoke.

“What is it Father?” Brienne drew close to him, concerned at the uneasiness she had never seen in him before.

Lord Selwyn held the parcel before him. “I had this sent from Tarth. It was carried here on horseback across the continent.” He told Brienne, loving tears forming in his eyes. “It arrived just this morning.” He explained.

Brienne took the beautifully wrapped package in her trembling hand, as Lord Selwyn nodded for her to open it. She carefully loosed the satin ribbon that held it’s velvet wrapping in place. She gingerly moved the plush outer layer aside to reveal the most exquisite fabric she had ever seen. Soft cream lace, silk so dark blue it was nearly black, and intricate woven gold seemed as if it had been waiting for her. She removed the contents of the gift, and a sumptuous gown unfolded in her hands. Her gaze traveled to her father’s sentimental expression.

“It was your mother’s.” Lord Selwyn told her, lost in a memory.

Brienne gasped in awe. “Oh, Father.” She exclaimed reverently. “It is beautiful.” Her fingers danced across the delicate fabric, as tears filled her own eyes.

“She wore it, on our wedding day.” He continued.

At that, Brienne was too overcome to answer. She carefully unfolded the dress to its full form and held it in front of her. The skirt cascaded downward, and skimmed the floor. Brienne noticed how it matched the length of her body as if it had been created just for her. The realization filled her with amazement.

Brienne looked into her Lord Selwyn’s proud eyes. “Mother was, my height?” She asked, amazed. He nodded his answer solemnly.

She searched his face with a questioning confusion. “You, you never told me.” Brienne whispered.

Lord Selwyn hung his head shamefully. “I should have done so. Forgive me.” He begged. “Her loss, turned part of my heart to stone. Even her memory was too painful for me to bear.” His voice broke as he explained. “I realize now that I took her from you. I should have celebrated her life with her daughter.” He steeled his jaw in shame. “Instead, I kept her from the one who needed her the most.” He imagined how desperately Brienne had needed the presence of her mother as she grew.

Brienne shook her head. Having a love as strong in her life as the one she shared with Jaime made Brienne understand her father’s pain. “You loved her. Your heart was shattered.” She regarded her dear father with compassion. “I cannot imagine what I would do if anything were to happen to...” Brienne stopped herself, unwilling to bring Jaime’s name into that thought.

Selwyn gave Brienne a grateful smile, and held Galladon closer to him. His heart soared at the adoration she held for her child, and how naturally she filled her role as a mother. He remembered his wife, Alisia’s, adoring gaze upon their precious newborn daughter. “She loved you so.” He sighed.

Brienne softly cradled Galldon’s head as he grew drowsy in his grandfather’s arms. “I do not remember her.” She admitted sadly.

“You are so like her.” He smiled. “You are her very image.” He beamed. “There is so much of her in you.” Selwyn boasted, and his grin turned to a chuckle as he recalled the wife he held so dear. “Your mother would have envied your skill with a sword, your proficiency has far surpassed her artistry with steel.” He announced, watching Brienne’s reaction.

Her face froze in surprise. She stared at her father uncertainly, as her breath shallowed. “Mother wielded a blade?” She questioned, eyes wide, trying to imagine her own Lady Mother as a soldier.

Lord Selwyn seemed to be peering through the layers of time as he spoke. “The first time I saw her...” He caught his breath as he must have so long ago, Brienne imagined. “She was sparring in the yard of her father’s house, charging a few of her brothers.” He described. “She had just bested one, I do not remember which. Near wild with battle energy was she, her hair in tangles, her face red from the rush, glistening with perspiration.” Brienne gasped in amusement, learning this about her own mother, made her feel closer to the woman she had not even known than most others in her entire life.

The Evenstar swelled proudly, and then his eyes misted once more. “She was the loveliest thing I had ever seen.” His sighed caught in his chest, as it had on the day he described. “I fell in love with your mother then and there.” He smiled wistfully.

“And she felt the same about you, did she not?” Brienne’s smile shone brightly. She could not help but think of her own feelings for Jaime.

A chuckle rose in Lord Selwyn’s throat. “She did.” He nodded. “Although she did not admit for years that it was the exact moment her heart became mine.” He laughed. “I begged her father for her hand that day.” He told Brienne.

“Then did she agree eagerly, or make you wait?” Brienne inquired, enjoying learning about her parents’ life together for the first time.

“She vowed she would only marry me if I could best her in combat.” He grinned at his daughter, remembering her challenge to one the suitors he had been foolish enough to betroth her to in her youth.

“What did you do?” Brienne asked, realizing that the outcome must have meant her mother had won.

Selwyn’s laughter resonated from his barrel chest. He raised his chin, and beheld his child. “I did the only thin a smitten young knight could do.” He explained. “I let her win.” His earnest smile told Brienne that her father had never once regretted his actions.

He regarded Brienne dotingly. “She would have been so proud of you.” He swore.

“I am sorry she was taken from you.” Brienne’s said remorsefully. Heavy tears rolled down her cheeks, glistening like diamonds in the firelight. Lord Selwyn, thought it fitting that even in her weeping, his treasure should brighten the world. Once more he rested his palm against her cheek, and wiped the tears from their tracks. Brienne raised her hand to his and pressed it against her face. 

“Losing your mother nearly destroyed me.” He agreed. “Your sisters each left us before they had barely tasted life. Then your brother was taken so early.” Brienne tried her best to swallow the hard lump in her throat at the thought of them.

With a wistful gaze, Selwyn regarded his child. “I am so grateful to the Gods that they let me keep you.” He smiled.

Brienne felt as if her heart might burst from happiness. She had always thought it a cruel trick of fate that she had been the only one of his children who had lived. Now, she realized that he had never once regarded her presence as anything but a blessing. “Oh Father.” She declared. “I have always felt your love and support with me.” She beamed.

Selwyn was silent for a moment. His eyes swept over Brienne with pride and traveled to Galladon sleeping against his neck. “And now you are mother and wife.” He delighted. “I know that you and this child are the most important things in the world to Ser Jaime.” He acknowledged. “He loves you very much, my dear.” The Evenstar proclaimed.

Brienne lowered her eyes bashfully and rejoiced in her father’s declaration. “If our love is but half as strong as the union you shared with Mother, we are truly the luckiest people in the all of the world.” She smiled warmly. “Thank you for sending for Mother’s gown. I would not dream of being wed in anything else. It will be an honor, and will bless our union.” Brienne agreed affectionately, embracing her father with tender warmth.

Selwyn held his daughter and grandson for a long while, rejoicing in their nearness. He recalled his devastating worry when Brienne’s disappearance loomed over him, and his sheer joy at Ser Jaime’s news that she was alive. He rejoiced that this day her life was to be joined to one she truly loved, who cherished her. He felt like the luckiest man in the world.

Lord Selwyn remained with Brienne in her chamber for a while longer. He reveled in the time spent with her and with little Galladon. It was only when her maids returned, accompanied by Casterly Rock’s Maester that he took his leave of her, but not until he was assured by Brienne that whatever troubled her stomach was of no great concern, most probably a result of her nervousness as a bride, and would no doubt be settled by some mint tea. Satisfied for now, The Evenstar left the chambermaids to tend to his daughter, and went off to keep his appointment with Tyrion.  
——————————  
“There you are, My Lord Selwyn.” Tyrion boomed as he turned from giving directions to two house servants. The arms of each were laden with fresh blooming flowers. The Great Hall was beginning to take shape for the festivities that would take place there later that day. One would have thought the King himself was to be married there. Tyrion left no detail unattended.

The Evenstar marched proudly into the hall. “I am impressed, My Lord.” He announced. “You have transformed the place.” Selwyn beamed.

“I do hope you find that it is befitting of the momentous occasion.” Tyrion offered.

“It is, most certainly.” Selwyn complimented, surveying the stately expanse.

“You did not happen to catch of my brother slinking way from your daughter’s chamber?” Tyrion questioned.

“I am sorry.” Lord Selwyn answered. “I have not seen Ser Jaime since earlier on the terrace.” He reported.

Tyrion grimaced. He had thought he might spy Jaime trying to glimpse the preparation, but it appears his older brother had made himself scarce. For a moment Tyrion wondered, in his fervor to create the perfect wedding for Jaime and Brienne, if he may have gone a little too far. Perhaps he had allowed the fanfare of the occasion to overshadow its true meaning, especially for the joyous couple. They had both been through an unimaginable ordeal in their struggle to be together, and finally all that lay before them was a lifetime of happiness. Tyrion’s mind began to wander thinking of the gauntlet through which they had traveled. Noticing Lord Selwyn studying him, he quickly thought of an excuse for his concern.

“I would have thought he would have been mooning like a lost puppy outside Lady Brienne’s door for having been separated from her for even a moment.” Tyrion chuckled.

Before they could continue, a maidservant who had been passing by and heard Tyrion’s quandary curtsied to the Lords. “Beg pardon, My Lord.” The young woman lowered her head respectfully to Tyrion. “I saw Ser Jaime walking down to the beach just a little while ago.” She told him quietly. “Should I send someone to fetch him for you?” She offered.

“No.” Tyrion smiled kindly. “That won’t be necessary.” He nodded. The girl curtsied to him again and scurried off, another task waiting for her.

Tyrion returned his attention to Lord Selwyn. “It will do him good to get out for a while.” He declared, suddenly very protective of his brother’s welfare. “He will do nothing here but pace the floor, and grow morose over the forced separation from his beloved.” Tyrion remarked. “Honestly. I do not know how the man lived without Brienne all those years.” He shook his head in feined concern.

“Nor she without him.” Lord Selwyn added, sentimentally. “They truly are fortunate to have found such a love with each other.” He smiled.

“There was a time that I feared my brother would never know the joy of someone who loved him selflessly, and unconditionally.” Tyrion admitted. “He has all of that with Brienne.” He confided in Lord Selwyn.

Then Evenstar bowed his head in agreement. “And my dear girl had given up so long ago that anyone would ever truly see her heart.” He looked scornful for a moment, remembering the lifetime of hurt and rejection Brienne had suffered. “I do believe Ser Jaime sees all of her glory when he looks at her.” He smiled.

“Oh.” Tyrion protested. “I do not believe that is all he sees.” His brow furrowed in contemplation.

“No?” Lord Selwyn’s voice slid up an octave.

“It is his entire world that Jaime envisions when he beholds Brienne.” Tyrion clarified. The Evenstar nodded as he laughed, and slapped Tyrion jovially on the back in whole hearted agreement.  
——————————  
Jaime stood under Brienne’s window for the better part of the morning, trying to catch a glimpse of her. A few times he heard the lilt of her laughter gliding through the open pane, and it played upon his heart, his senses, and his body like magic. Even Cersei, when he had fooled himself into believing that it was she for whom he was destined, had never brought about such reactions in him. There had been times when he needed distance from his twin. He had to get away from her as if to save some part of himself, for himself. With Brienne, it was so different. He had no need to ever take leave from her. Sometimes, when they were apart only by a chamber’s, or a wall’s breadth, the absence was physically painful. Jaime could not imagine ever wishing to be anywhere but near enough to Brienne that it was only skin which separated them. Soon they would be joined as husband and wife. Truly one heart, one soul, and one spirit.

Jaime knew that he would see Brienne, when the turning of day into night would shine the softest, most golden of the sun’s rays upon their wedding ceremony. However, being apart from her was still more than he could bear. At first, he thought taking a turn around the perimeter of Casterly Rock, along the battlements, would sufficiently pass the time. However, he quickly grew bored, and even more desperate for Brienne. His heart longed to share the lovely vistas with her.

Somehow, Jaime found his lonely feet wandering toward the beach. He did not fight them. The day was bright and pleasantly warm, and if he could not spend the afternoon with his beloved, he decided he might as well enjoy the breeze and the surf. He had not visited the small strip of sand that formed the castle’s western border since he had returned with Brienne and their son. Perhaps it would entertain him for a while. He and Tyrion had played there as boys. They had enjoyed themselves there.

As Jaime made his way along the seafront, his smile beamed wide imaging someday playing with Galladon in the surf, and perhaps other children, he hoped. He had missed all but the final precious moments of Brienne’s pregnancy, and wanted deeply to have been able to share in the waiting for their babe to be born. He knew he could never have that time back, but how he would revel in watching his future offspring grow within his wife’s belly. He wished for it, very much. So preoccupied was he with thoughts of the family he wanted to build with Brienne, that he had not realized the waves were lapping at his boots.

Jaime laughed to himself, and looked happily up into the bright blue sky. He marveled at its deep azure hue. The only thing he had ever seen to surpass its beauty and depth were Brienne’s eyes. He bent and pulled off his boot, tossing them as far up the beach beyond the waterline, as he could. Then a spontaneous thought occurred to him, something he had not done since he was a child. He pulled his tunic off over his head and stretched in the warm sunlight that bathed him. His britches followed, the clothing finding its way through the air and coming to rest near his boots, as he trudged further into the surf.

Before he knew it, he was knee deep in the gently crashing waves. Taking a quick gulp of air, Jaime dove beneath the surface. The salt water was as smooth as silk on his skin. The pressure of the air pushing against his lungs as he held his breath caused a warm, satisfying feeling in his chest. He stretched his limbs against the current, pushing himself further out into the waves. Jaime’s mind danced with images of Brienne and Galladon. He felt invigorated, alive with possibilities. He was eager for his future, for their future, together.

Finally, his muscles began to burn, and his pulse ached in his head. His lungs at last begged for the air he was denying them. When he could strive no longer to glide through the water, Jaime turned upward toward the bright sunlight that shone through the ripples, and he kicked himself to the top of the water. Jaime broke through the tide, gasping and filling his chest with sweet salt air. The glistening of the sunlight off the water paled in comparison to his beaming smile. He bobbed for a moment on a gentle wave, and surveyed the distance he had covered. His swim had taken him far enough out to be gratified with his physical exertion, but not so much that there was any cause for alarm. Jaime breathed deep and settled back to float in the surf. He stretched his body, paddling slowly with only his legs. His arms dangled carelessly at his sides, moving only enough to keep him afloat. The strange muffled sound of the ocean that filled his ears, made it almost seem that he inhabited another world. Save for the moments he spent lying next to Brienne, he could not recall feeling so relaxed.

Jaime snickered to himself, wondering if Brienne’s day of bridal preparations for their wedding was giving her the same placid calmness. Somehow, he doubted she was enjoying her time half as much. He grew suddenly guilty at his carefree pleasure, and wished he could show his beloved how luxurious his little excursion felt. Before he had even finished the thought, Jaime was overcome with regret. He recalled Brienne telling of how she had not so much as a dipped a toe into the ocean since it had taken her brother.

Jaime quickly popped himself upright in the waves, and saw that he was slightly farther out than he had been. What was he thinking? How could he have been so careless. He had always been a strong swimmer, but it was best not to take the power of the tides lightly. He would not allow himself to imagine the devastated heartbreak that one simple mistake on the waves could cause Brienne. How could he have been so reckless and irresponsible with her happiness, with their life together?

Without a second thought, Jaime hastily began to swim for the shore. His only thought was returning safe and sound to Brienne and their son. He measured his path carefully, taking pains to ensure that the current would not drag him any farther from them. With brisk, sharp stokes he made his way back to land. His mind only calmed upon the sensation of the wet sand beneath his toes as his forceful kicks made contact. He stood from the water, standing tall and naked in the surf. He cared not if anyone spied him. Jaime’s concern was only counting the remaining hours until he and Brienne would pledge their love and their lives to each other.

By the time, Jaime made his way back to where his garments lay in the sand, he felt like he was walking on air. The thought that this very day Brienne would be his bride made him as giddy as a playful child. He would never take the strength of his love for her for granted. He was the luckiest man alive. Jaime plopped down in the sand, not bothering to dress, and lost himself in uproarious laughter. His amusement did not come from anything he found humorous. His joy was the result of how deeply he was in love with Brienne, and the happiness he had finally found. At last he was the person he had always wanted to be. He was honorable. He was hers.

The sound of Jaime’s merriment echoed up and down the beach. Perhaps, if anyone had happened by they would have thought him mad, sitting unclothed, drying on the sand, laughing uncontrollably. To Jaime it was simply the only way he could find to express the overwhelming euphoria that loving Brienne brought to him.

As the breeze dried the droplets from his skin, and chilled his body, Jaime wrapped his arms around himself but it was not for warmth. He was imagining holding Brienne close to him and never letting her go. With elated tears of bliss running down his cheeks, Jaime raised his face to sky, and declared his joy at the top of his lungs.

“I love her!” He affirmed his heart’s greatest triumph. “I love Brienne of Tarth!” Jaime shouted at the top of his lungs. “I love her! I love her!” He repeated, happy sobs bursting from his throat.

Jaime saw Brienne’s lovely face. He thought of all that had conspired to keep them apart. He recalled his heart’s awakening upon her being returned to him, as if it had been dead since the moment he left her at Winterfell. Then to the Gods themselves, Jaime looked earnestly, his gaze searching the sky. He spoke his heart upon the wind. “Thank you.” He sighed. “Thank you for Brienne.” He smiled sublimely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wedding next, I promise!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne are finally wed. The couple share their vows, and pledge their lives to each other. The evening is a glorious celebration of their love. Amidst the festivities, Brienne has a secret to share with her beloved new husband.

At last, the day’s golden rays began disappearing beyond The Sunset Sea. A warm sweet breeze swirled over Casterly Rock, settling upon the gardens and courtyards of the glorious fortress as if it had made a great journey to be part of the celebration that would soon occur. Within the ancient walls, the Great Hall had been made a flourishing paradise of blossoms and candlelight. The air itself appeared to shimmer with radiance. Tyrion had done his best to adhere to the wishes of the bride and groom, and keep the guest list to a minimum. However, by the time he had added the numbers of important bannermen, honored friends, and close relatives from both sides of the family the event was still large enough to be respectable by noble standards. Tyrion presided over the whole affair, seeing to last minute details, and ensuring all was perfect. He was in his glory.

Jaime paced up and down a porticoed passageway just off the Great Hall, feeling as though he wanted to crawl out of his skin. He was outfitted in his finest armor, polished and oiled to an immaculate shine. The deep red cloak of House Lannister billowed outward behind him as he covered the length of the corridor again and again. Widow’s Wail hung proudly at his side, and even his steel seemed to ache for it’s partner. Noticeably absent from Jaime’s attire was his golden hand. He could not have imagined wearing the thing that had been Cersei’s gift to him, when he joined his life to Brienne’s. The heavy, slab of metal had become as much of a hinderance and curse to him as its benefactress herself had been when she lived. He had no wish to ever see it again. He would choose to accept himself the way he was, without any pretenses or charades. The way Brienne saw him. The way she loved him. The separation from Brienne for even a day had been unbearable. Jaime was certain that if he did not see her soon he would explode from sheer frustration, or wither to dust from the unfulfilled longing.

Lost in thought, Jaime nearly jumped when Tyrion appeared from out of nowhere behind him. “Are you ready?” The younger Lannister asked with a sly smile.

Jaime exhaled in relief. “I have been ready since I was reunited with her.” He grumbled, annoyed at his nervousness.

“I know.” Tyrion acknowledged. “And you have been more than patient.” He admitted. “I understand that you wished to marry Brienne weeks ago.” He smiled. Jaime calmed a bit at his brother’s kindness. “I realize how difficult it was for you to wait.” Tyrion continued. “I cannot tell you how much it means to me to be able to give this to you, both of you.” He confessed.

Jaime stopped and caught his breath. He regarded Tyrion thoughtfully. “Forgive me, Brother.” He begged. “Forgive my impatience.” He smiled. “You have outdone yourself. Everything is perfect. There are no words to express how much Brienne and I appreciate all you have done for us.” He grew wistful at the mention of her name. “We are forever in your debt.”

Tyrion shook his head. “There is nothing to repay.” He assured Jaime. “All I have done has been an act of love.” He smiled. “I am more happy for you than I could ever describe. No one deserves this joy more.” He beamed. Jaime knelt and embraced his brother, on the verge of tears. Tyrion returned his affection with a tight grasp, fighting the lump in his own throat.

After a moment, Tyrion jovially shoved Jaime away. “Now, stop your blubbering.” He chuckled. “Your bride awaits.” Tyrion told him, motioning him into the Hall, silently announcing that the wedding was about to begin. Jaime eagerly complied, anxious to be reunited with Brienne.

Seeing the groom enter, the guests hurried to take their places, standing along either side of a wide, long carpet that had been unrolled down the length of the Hall. The long red runner was a Lannister family heirloom, that had long ago been been woven of the finest fibers. Embroidered lions made from golden threads framed the edges, standing guard at every few paces. Tyrion had ordered the addition of suns, and moons through the middle path to pay homage to Brienne’s sigil. He took great measures to ensure the new adornments exactly mirrored those that symbolized House Tarth.

Jaime strode proudly through the crowd as they parted, Tyrion leading him toward the grand hearth, in front of which stood the Septon of Casterly Rock. The only falter in Jaime’s steps was upon seeing a familiar and welcome face smiling at him from the side of the aisle as he had almost reached his destination. Aiken stood in his finest garb, holding a place of honor among the guests. The breath caught in Jaime’s lungs when he remembered how sick Brienne had been when they had found the farmer’s tiny home, and how the caring elderly couple had nursed her back to health. Jaime was somewhat taken aback when he noted the absence of Mary by the old man’s side. He prayed that did not mean anything was amiss with his friends, and hoped that Aiken’s beaming grin meant surely that all was well. Jaime could only nod happily as he passed, and hope they would have a chance to speak later.

Ahead, Ser Podrick Payne stood at the side of the Septon, ready to guard over the proceedings. He had attended Jaime for most of the afternoon, ensuring that the nervous bridegroom wanted for nothing. He had polished Jaime’s armor to a brilliant sheen, and assisted in securing the ties and plates as the groom had dressed. Podrick felt it his duty, in some small way, to see to it that every detail of the wedding was perfect. Now, he would be sword and shield to the knight he once squired, and her future husband. Podrick had seen them safely to Casterly Rock, and now as Lord Commander of Tyrion’s Guard, he would allow nothing to mar the beginning of their life together.

Jaime swelled with pride as he reached the Septon. He bowed his head to the holy man, and nodded a knowing smile to Podrick. Jaime then turned readying himself for the moment he would finally behold Brienne. Tyrion took his position dutifully at Jaime’s side, puffed with the satisfaction of not only the lavish festivities, but also for the happiness his brother had finally found. It was right to see him at last fulfilled, at peace, and in love with a good woman. His true soulmate.

Time seemed to stop as Jaime awaited the first sight of his bride. The guests shuffled, watching him in anticipation. For a moment, nothing happened. Although he certainly knew better, Jaime feared that perhaps Brienne had changed her mind. He was unaware whether he even drew breath, and he strained his eyes trying to view any movement beyond the main doors. He felt like the only person in the room, his focus transfixed upon the threshold which seemed as far from him as the island of Tarth itself. His pulse pounded in his ear. His heart raced within his chest.

At last shadows painted the heavy carved gilded doors of the Great Hall. The crowd turned, anticipating the bride’s entrance. Jaime allowed himself a gasp of expectation. To his relieved surprise, the first to enter was Mary, smiling brightly and carrying Galladon who was dressed in a newly made crisp lace infant gown. Jaime could not contain his wide smile at seeing the woman who had saved Brienne’s life, once again holding his infant son. The babe’s tiny head spun around, taking in the sight of so many unknown faces staring adoringly at him. One would have expected the child to burst into tears amidst the throng on strangers. However, he cooed delightedly, and waved his tiny arms thoroughly enjoying being the center of attention, as if they had gathered in his honor. Jaime could not help but laugh at his son’s reaction. No one in attendance dared to judge the knowledge that the child had been born out of wedlock. They knew they would face the wrath of the boy’s uncle, the most powerful man in the Westerlands, should a judging word be mentioned. Little Galladon was marched up the aisle in Mary’s arms, finally dissolving in laughter and stretching out his hands when he saw his father. Jaime burst with pride, and returned Galladon’s joyful smile. He gave Mary a nod of gratitude as the old woman took her place on the other side of the Septon, a few respectful paces from the spot in which Brienne would soon stand. Jaime’s attention returned again, to the far away doors. He held his breath once more.

It felt to Jaime that he was in another world as Lord Selwyn’s tall frame came into view. The Evenstar was the epitome of regality in his ceremonial robes. Brienne’s father stopped for a moment before entering the hall, and glanced to his side. Jaime could tell the man was smiling, as he bent slightly and appeared to kiss the person who stood unseen on his far side. Then Lord Selwyn turned and escorted his daughter, the bride, to her entrance before the crowd.

Jaime’s heart froze at the sight of her. Brienne stood, holding her father’s outstretched arm. She wore a gown of gold, her bodice the darkest blue silk, and her sleeves creamy lace. From a bejeweled sword belt, Oathkeeper hung proudly at her side. It seemed the light from every candle in the room had found her, and she fairly glowed with anticipation. Her cheeks were pink from the flush of the unaccustomed attention of all the eyes that surrounded her. Her gaze traveled over the crowd to lock upon Jaime’s own. They greeted each other over the distance. To their hearts, it seemed they had been separated by years rather than just hours. Brienne wanted to run to him. Jaime wanted only to gather her in his arms and keep her there forever. She was the most exquisite thing he had ever seen.

Lord Selwyn guided Brienne slowly through the spectators, along the ceremonial red carpet. Jaime thought she glided on air. His eyes never left her, his love and admiration shone brightly in his stare. He wore the astonished, awe-filled smile of a man desperately in love. From a distance she was a vision. By the time Brienne reached the front of the Hall, and stood but paces from him, Jaime was certain she was an angel sent from the Heavens to one who wholly did not deserve her. Brienne was equally breathless as she drew closer to him. Standing, finally face to face with Jaime, her eyes were brimming with happy tears. She smiled at him bashfully, and his heart begged to melt in his chest.

The Septon announced something to the crowd that neither Jaime, nor Brienne heard. So lost in each other, they were, that awareness of anything else scarcely entered their thoughts. Lord Selwyn turned and took Brienne’s hand. He clenched her fingers in his gentle fist for a moment, his eyes wistful and loving. Then he leaned and kissed her cheek. Brienne returned her father’s affection with a loving embrace. After holding Brienne in his proud fatherly gaze a moment longer, Lord Selwyn turned toward Jaime. The man who in but mere moments would be Brienne’s husband shook The Evenstar’s hand, gratefully. The elder grasping his arm in welcome. Finally, giving his daughter to the man who loved her, Lord Selwyn laid Brienne’s trembling hand in Jaime’s, and moved to stand beside the couple.

Jaime held tight to Brienne, almost afraid she would fly away as they faced the Septon. The aged man looked at them compassionately, and addressed Jaime. ““You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.” He said formally.

Brienne and Jaime eyed each other and snickered a little. They both understood that Brienne needed no one to protect her. Her strength and skill had been the first of her qualities with which he had fallen in love. However, they realized that even more than physical guardianship, the placing of Jaime’s family colors around Brienne’s shoulders signified the joining of their lives, the beginning of a union that would be stronger than either of them had been separately. Although, Jaime had spent hours practicing unfastening the closures of his ceremonial cloak with only one hand, his fingers still shook so vigorously that he feared he may not be able to loosen the golden cord. Brienne smiled at him patiently and proudly, and waited. Remembering the first time he had struggled to loosen the ties at his neck, when he had come to her at Winterfell, she gave him the time he needed. She would have stood there forever, it that was what it took.

Finally, the thick fabric gave way and fell from Jaime’s shoulders. He caught it with his handless arm and swung it upward, catching the neckline in his left hand. Jaime cascaded his cloak around Brienne, wrapping her in the symbol of his love for her, and the embodiment of his vow. Her eyes never left his, staring deeply into his soul with so much love that he nearly forgot to secure the closure at her collar. Her smile was everything he had ever wanted.

The Septon then looked up from the happy couple and peered out over the crowd. “We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife.” He began.

‘Man and wife.’ The words made Jaime’s heart soar. He felt as though he could fly. If it were possible, he would have risen into the sky and proclaimed his promise to the whole of Westeros.

In that moment, the one person who could have interrupted the solemn ceremony chose to make his presence known. Held snuggly in his caregiver’s arms, Galladon whined loudly, and stretched for his parents’ embrace. Brienne and Jaime turned toward their son, a gleeful smile shared between them. The boy’s mother regarded him lovingly and lowered her head in acceptance. Lord Selwyn grinned, and lifted his grandson from the arms of his diligent custodian. He happily brought the child to Brienne and settled him in her arms. Jaime reached and kissed his son’s head, making sure that mother and child were both satisfied before allowing the ceremony to continue.

With a knowing nod, the Septon watched as Brienne and Jaime joined their hands atop his. The elder man brought a pure white sash that had been carefully laid across the book from which he read, and draped it over the lovers’ grasp. He regarded the bride and groom with reverence, and wrapped their hands loosely. Turning his stare back for the crowd of well wishers, the cleric spoke again.

“Let it be known that Lady Brienne of House Tarth and Ser Jaime of House Lannister are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.” The Septon declared. Jaime and Brienne studied each other knowingly, memories of all they had endured to be together running through their thoughts.

“In the sight of the Seven.” The old man continued. “I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words.” He bid.

Holding each other in an adoring gaze, there was no else in the room as Jaime and Brienne swore their vows together. “Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,” Jaime proclaimed proudly, as Brienne echoed his promise.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.” Brienne swore to him, her voice quivering with emotion.

At last, having promised themselves to each other Jaime stepped closer to Brienne, and presented her the token of his oath. "With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife.” He smiled, joyfully.

Brienne answered, equally elated. "With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husband.” She pledged, her face alight with happiness.

They reached for each other, fingers entwined within their marriage ribbon. Jaime wrapped his free arm around Brienne and drew her tightly to him. She could no longer prevent her happy teardrops from falling. Neither could he. Brienne melted into Jaime’s embrace as their child nestled between them. It was not their first kiss, but was the most glorious, soft and slow, and full of promise. Losing themselves in the moment, it was as if the entire world had disappeared. All that had conspired to keep them apart had failed. The reluctance in which they once hidden their feelings, and the mistakes they had made had served only as minor hindrances to their enduring happiness. At last they shared each other as husband and wife.

When finally, their private celebration was satiated, the Septon smiled proudly over them and addressed the crowd. “Who were two are now one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.” He announced with authority. Beside the bride and groom, Tyrion and Lord Selwyn smiled smugly at each other, content at the beautiful ceremony they had presented the couple, and pleased at the joy their loved ones had found.

The glorious passion in which Jaime and Brienne reveled became a giddy bliss as they clung to each other. Even little Galladon in their arms could not contain his sweet happiness, and serenaded his parents promise with a chorus of babyish coos and giggles, as he snuggled contentedly between them. When Jaime and Brienne turned to greet their guests, the Hall met them with a loud and boisterous cheer.  
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The celebration of Brienne and Jaime’s marriage lasted long into the night. There were minstrels and dancing, speeches and oaths of fealty toasted to the bride and groom. The kitchens served a lavish feast for the guests, that included the flowing of many barrels of wine. Extravagant symbolic gifts were presented to the newlyweds, and even to their young son. Queen Sansa had sent two long beautiful daggers fashioned of dragon glass to commemorate the couple’s service to Winterfell. The blades were set in hilts of polished steel in which were mounted flawless rubies and sapphires representing the union of House Tarth and House Lannister. The ornate silver inflayed box which held the weapons also contained a third smaller dagger for Galladon, upon which was carved the suns, and moons of his mother’s Sigil surrounding the lion’s of his father’s crest. The union of Ser Brienne of Tarth and Ser Jaime of Casterly Rock was indeed a grand wedding gala, much to Tyrion’s delight.

Jaime and Brienne happily embraced Mary and Aiken, who imparted to them how Tyrion had sent his agents to their little farm to collect them in a beautifully adorned carriage. Brienne had, earlier that day, been told of their arrival and had insisted that Mary be shown directly to her chambers. She herself had given the dear woman the special honor of caring for Galladon during the ceremony. The elder couple who had brought Brienne back to health, were presented one of the finest quarters at Casterly Rock, and would be honored guests for the duration of their visit.

Lord Selwyn beamed with pride as he moved throughout the wedding feast greeting guests, and enjoying himself thoroughly. His was so filled with joy for his beloved daughter that he thought his own heart might burst. At last making his way back around to the happy couple, The Evenstar opened his arms wide and enveloped Brienne in an adoring embrace. He kissed her temple and held her close. He brushed his palm over the crown of Galladon’s head as the child perched in her arms.

“I have never seen a more lovely bride in all my life.” He boasted. “Or a happier one.” He smiled at both her and Jaime.

“Jaime, My Boy.” Selwyn continued, clasping Jaime on the shoulder. “You have been given a very important responsibility.” He declared, looking at Brienne with love and pride.

“That, I most certainly have.” Jaime agreed, his arm traveling around Brienne’s waist. “I assure you it is an honor I cherish, and one that I shall never take for granted.” He vowed.

Lord Selwyn regarded his daughter and her new husband with a satisfied grin. “I know you will not.” He accepted, taking Jaime’s outstretched hand, and shaking it vigorously.

Just then, from near the hearth, Tyrion tapped his goblet with the blade of his dagger and called the gathering to order. “Forgive me, Ladies and Lords, for interrupting the festivities, but I would like to present my gift to the bride and groom.” He smiled. “Might I request that my brother and his wife join me?” Tyrion asked, and scanned the crowd, his eyes coming to rest upon Jaime and Brienne with a welcoming smile.

Jaime held out his arm for Brienne, who handed off her adorable charge to Lord Selwyn. Galladon giggled with delight and settled against his grandfather. The newlyweds made their way to where Tyrion had called them, the crowd parting as they approached. Neither were sure what to expect, as they took their places beside him. A mindful servant quickly supplied them with full goblets of their own, obviously already having been ordered to do so.

Tyrion nodded to the newlyweds in gratitude and again addressed the crowd. “First I think it appropriate to acknowledge the benevolence and leadership of our honored king, Brandon Stark.” Tyrion said respectfully. “Long live the King.” He proclaimed and raised his cup in reverence.

“Long Live the King.” Jaime and Brienne answered, and followed suite, as the crowd cheered the wish for their recently crowned monarch.

Tyrion cleared his throat. Jaime could not tell if his brother was nervous or excited. Perhaps a little bit of both. “I have of late been informed that my presence has been requested in the Capital.” He told them, unable to meet Jaime’s questioning and concerned glare. “I have accepted an appointment as Hand of the King.” He announced, and turned toward Jaime who was unable to control the dropping of his jaw. Brienne stood near her husband, holding onto his arm in shock.

“As such, I will no longer be able to carry out my duties at Casterly Rock.” Tyrion’s brow furrowed apologetically to Jaime, and then he looked out over the crowd once more.

“It is for that reason that I now have the honor of bestowing the titles of a Lord of Casterly Rock and Lord Paramount of the Westerlands upon my brother, Ser Jaime Lannister. The next in line and rightful heir of this House.” He spoke with authority, and Jaime noted, almost with relief.

The crowd roared its approval as Tyrion took Jaime’s hand to seal the transfer. He smiled widely up at Jaime who was just finding his voice. “Are, are you sure?” Jaime asked guardedly. “You are giving up so much power. I know what that means to you.” He conceded.

Tyrion shook off Jaime’s worry. “But I will be gaining so much more.” He smiled. “Imagine what I can do in Kings Landing.” His eyes twinkled.

Jaime drew in a sharp breath. “What a terrifying thought.” He shared Tyrion’s laughter.

“Bannermen, Honored Guests, Friends, Family.” Tyrion called out, and held up his palms directing attention to Jaime and Brienne. “I give you, Lord and Lady Lannister.” He beamed.

The approving cheers of the crowd rang through the Great Hall once more. Jaime looked at Brienne, hoping he had done the right thing in accepting Tyrion’s gesture. He found only pride and love shining on her face as she beheld him. “You will make a wonderful Lord Paramount, My Husband.” She told him earnestly.

Jaime wrapped his arms around Brienne and pulled her to him. “And you, My Love, My Wife, will make the perfect Lady Lannister.” He smiled, and brought his lips to hers as the crowd applauded them.  
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The festivities were still in full swing and showed no signs of abating when Brienne and Jaime bid their good nights, eager to begin a more private celebration of their marriage vows. With Galladon sleeping soundly on his father’s shoulder, the bride and groom retired to their chamber. The quiet and solitude of their rooms was a welcome change from the lively gala that had been thrown in their honor, especially after having been kept apart all day.

They tiptoed into the nursery where Jaime carefully laid their sleeping son into his bassinet. The exhausted babe never stirred. Brienne laid her fingers atop Galladon’s chest and settled him lovingly. It had become their ritual to stand together over their slumbering child once they had put him to bed, wrapped in each other’s arm, glorying in the love they shared. This night was no different. Jaime felt as rich and powerful as a king with his treasure, Brienne, in his arms. She felt safe and warm, and truly cherished.

Brienne nestled into Jaime’s embrace. As she rested her head against his, her hand slid softly up the chest plate of his armor. She began to loosen the buckles at his shoulder. He placed sweet kisses at her temple, his body reacting to her. Once Brienne had removed Jaime’s shining steel, and they were separated by nothing, he caught her to him kissing her wantonly. His delicious provocation brought a low lustful sigh to her throat. She was as eager to share their wedding night in passion as he was. However, before she completely lost herself in their love making, there was something she had waited all day to share with him.

Brienne reluctantly pulled from Jaime’s loving grasp. She smiled sweetly at him. “Would you help me with my gown?” She turned a bashful gaze downward, spying his need for her. She felt a little guilty at making him wait, but she knew it would be worth it.

“Of course.” Jaime smiled seductively, imaging the visions beneath the silk and lace that Brienne wore. He quickly sneaked one more kiss upon her neck just under her ear. The sensation sent a glorious shutter down her spine.

They made their way slowly into the bed chamber, where again he captured her waist and entwined her in his arms. He tasted her mouth greedily. She melted at his touch, eager to feel him upon her skin. Slowly, Jaime moved his hand to help Brienne as she began to untie the laces at the front of her bodice. He carefully helped Brienne to lower her gown and step from the intricately woven garment. She stood before him in only her under shift and small cloth. His nearness excited her, and she felt the familiar inviting wetness between her legs. Urgently, she forced herself to focus upon the news she wanted to announce, and stopped his amorous path to her body.

“Wait.” Brienne smiled coyly. She placed her hands upon his shoulders, holding him at bay.

“I don’t think I can.” He declared, yearning for every inch of her. He leaned forward struggling to reach her, and caught her lips in a powerful kiss.

Brienne giggled, and halted his momentum as best she could. “I have a gift for you.” She told him, her voice giddy with anticipation.

Jaime stopped his struggle to reach her, and sighed. “A gift?” He questioned, regret finding his eyes. “But I have nothing to present to you?” He lamented with embarrassment. He hated himself for not thinking to find for her a momento with which to mark their joyous occasion. “Forgive me.” He lowered his eyes in shame.

Brienne brought her hands up to caress his face, lifting his eyes to her. “You have given me everything, My Husband.” She told him, adoringly. “There is nothing more for which I could ever want.” Her smile warmed him. Her selflessness inspired him. She was the most wonderful wife a man could ask for.

Brienne gazed into his eyes. “It is but a tiny thing.” She smiled at the truth in her words. She longed to tell her secret.

She took him by the hand and led him to the bed. “Sit down.” She bid, making sure he would be adequately comfortable for the shock.

Jaime did as he was told and perched on the edge of the mattress. His face was a portrait of confusion and concern. Brienne moved to stand before him, filling the space between his knees. Taking a deep breath, she reached and took his hand in her own. She squeezed his fingers tightly for a moment, staring into his eyes, a look of wonder on her face. Then she slowly brought Jaime’s palm and laid it atop her abdomen.

“I am with child.” Brienne’s voice broke with emotion as she told him. Happy tears came to her eyes as she imagined the life she held within her womb, the life they had created. She searched Jaime’s face for his reaction, hoping he would be as joyful about the discovery as she was.

Jaime sat motionless, the meaning of Brienne’s news slowly dawning upon him. His fingers moved delicately over her still flat belly. “What?” He asked, unsure he had heard her correctly. Brienne merely smiled. “A baby?” He beamed. She nodded, unable to hold back her excited smile.

Jaime slid off the bed, and onto his knees infront of Brienne, as if he were worshipping mother and child. Brienne removed her shift and wiggled out of her small cloth, letting the garments fall to the floor. She stood naked before her husband. Jaime laid his lips against the plane of her belly, and kissed the babe within through her skin. He pressed his ear to the softness of her flesh, almost trying to hear the tiny unheard heartbeat. Brienne laced her fingers through his hair and held his head close to her, reveling in his awed response to the news.

A happy little sob ran through Brienne’s body and brought Jaime back to reality. Slowly, he rose to face her, his hand still placed protectively on her abdomen. Suddenly, he remembered her nausea at day break. “Is that why you were ill earlier?” He looked at her with wonder.

Brienne nodded. “Actually. I haven’t felt well for days.” She informed him, a little embarrassed at keeping that truth from him. “The Maester examined me after my father presented my mother’s wedding gown to me this morning.” She whispered as he held her to him. “I am a little more than a moon along.” She smiled expectantly.

For a moment Jaime grew concerned. “So soon after Galladon?” He asked worriedly. “Will you be strong enough, for another babe?” He studied her for any sign of weakness.

She chuckled a bit, and nodded. “That is why I did not realized it.” Brienne explained. “My bleeding had not been regular since he was born.” She grinned self consciously.

“And we have not exactly been taking precautions.” Jaime smiled, remembering how they had enjoyed each other nearly every night since they had arrived at Casterly Rock.

Brienne nodded happily in agreement. “The Maester said that I am returned to full health.” She assured Jaime. “He said I should have no problems.” She told him happily. Her smile brightened Jaime’s whole world. He lost himself studing every angle of her.

Brienne grew quiet, unsure for a moment. “You are...happy, aren’t you?” She looked at him hopefully.

Jaime’s eyes gleamed brightly as he looked earnestly into hers. “Oh, My Darling.” He swore. “I could not be happier. No man has ever been as fulfilled or as content as I.” He brought his forehead to hers with a joyful sigh, recalling his wish by the ocean that afternoon, that he and Brienne might be blessed with more children. “We’re having another baby.” He laughed.

He could feel the excitement building within him. He wanted to shout for joy. Without hesitation, Jaime gathered Brienne up into his arms and spun her around, whooping at the top of his lungs. She laughed out loud along with him.

Almost as soon as he had lifted Brienne off her feet, he realized what he had done. Quickly, and carefully he set her back upon the floor, terrified at the thought of having done harm to her or the babe. “I’m sorry, My Love. I’m sorry.” Jaime repeated urgently. “Did I hurt you? Forgive me.” He begged.

Brienne snickered at his concern, and caressed his jaw, eager to ease his mind. “No, Dearest, you did not hurt me.” She guaranteed. “I am...” She stopped herself, and ran her hand lovingly over her belly. “We are just fine.” She relieved his worry.

Without the need for words, Jaime devoured Brienne with his eyes, anticipating the night to come. She felt as if her body was set afire by his passionate glare. She leaned her head back and welcomed his adoring kiss, which delighted upon her mouth and then trailed down to explore her supple tender breasts. His mouth elicited a soft moan that beckoned him further. She needed him. He needed her.

Jaime turned Brienne gently in his arms, and laid her softly down upon the bed. He watched her long lean body stretch luxuriously, readying herself for him. Jaime quickly tore off his tunic, and unlaced his britches, kicking them to the side. Gingerly, he climbed onto the bed to join his wife. Brienne trailed her finger along the muscles of his arm as he hovered over her. He bent to taste her mouth once more. She reached up and caressed the curve of his shoulders. The tracks of her fingertips as her hands slid down his back to his waist, warmed him with the most glorious sensation of peace. She was his everything.

Brienne moved one hand lower, enveloping Jaime’s hard cock in her warm grasp. Her touch made him shutter with want, groaning with satisfaction. Their lustful mouths found the other, greedy tongues searching and tasting. Jaime moved to lean on the elbow of his handless arm. With his fingers he tickled Brienne’s ribs, followed the graceful line of her waist, and traced the edge of her hip getting lost in the soft curls between her legs. He dared not reach inside her, for fear of harming the babe. Instead, he busied himself pleasuring the sensitive nerves hidden within her velvet folds. Brienne breathed a sigh of heady bliss, and arched her back, begging him for more. He readily complied, driving her to the height of her passions, and lingering long enough to enjoy a glorious rushing flow from her which cascaded over his fingers. A loud cry of gratification from her throat made him even harder. He breathed a questioning kiss into her mouth. Her lovely pleading eyes told him she was ready.

Jaime gingerly lowered himself atop Brienne, careful not to rest his full weight upon her life-filled belly. He rounded his back so that his pulsing cock could reach her warm swollen entrance. Softly, slowly he lost himself inside her. Brienne sighed with longing, and raised her legs around him to welcome him further. Their kiss deepened, hungry for one another. Brienne’s fingers dug into the muscles of Jaime’s back, driving him crazy with desire. Unable to wait any longer, he thrust himself deep into her glorious body. He took her to the edge, and withdrew over and over again until Brienne was close to screaming with her pleasure. He himself was doing his best to the fight the need to explode within her, as he relished the taste of her tongue upon his.

At last, neither could deny the peek of their passion any longer. Their bodies tensed. Their voices joined in a chorus of primal euphoria. Brienne threw her head back in readiness. Jaime let his head drop to her chest, satisfying his mouth upon her perfect breasts. Together, they reached their climax, and rode the waves of arduous need, clinging desperately to each other. Exhausted, and satisfied Jaime rolled onto the mattress beside Brienne as she tried to catch her breath. He gathered her in his arms, and lay beside her in the soft light of the fire from the hearth. Brienne rested against him, as he draped his hand over her belly. The warmth of his body next to her was a delight of which Brienne would never grow tired. He placed soft kisses on her skin as she nestled to him.

Brienne turned her head and looked deeply into Jaime’s eyes. “I love you, My Husband.” She declared to him.

Jaime closed his eyes, enjoying the sound of her voice. When he opened them again, he smiled so contentedly at her that it took her breath away. “I love you, My Wife.” He swore, and kissed her deeply.

Jaime held Brienne and felt her rhythmic breathing against his chest. He could almost sense the life of their child within her belly as he covered it protectively with his own hand. Never had there been a happier couple, or two people who loved each other so completely. Of that, he was certain. Jaime laid his head against Brienne’s, breathing in the scent of her. He tightened his grip around her, unwilling to leave even a hair’s breadth between them. Together they fell asleep in each other’s arms.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Jaime eagerly await the birth of their second child.

The soft breeze off the ocean played on Brienne’s skin. It teased at her hair, and filled her lungs with salty sweetness. The glorious warmth of the day penetrated into her very bones, and filled her with relaxed contentment. She leaned her head back and drank it in. Brienne rolled her neck, letting the knots stretch from her stiff muscles. It had been Jaime who had suggested this excursion, and she was now grateful to have accepted. She peered toward to gentle waves that rolled into the beach and giggled. The bright sunlight dancing off the water outlined the shape of her beloved husband, dressed only in thin britches, happily splashing in the tide with their toddler son who had only just take his first steps a few moons before. Their little family was so perfect, so happy, and nearly complete.

Brienne sighed with a pleasant peaceful heart, and traced her palm softly along the outline of her large rounded belly. Her smile rested lovingly upon her swollen abdomen, and her hand hovered over the spot she had just felt the babe kick. Her second child was due any day, and Brienne was eager to greet the new life she and Jaime had created. The tiny being that even now seemed just as impatient to make its arrival. It was almost as if the babe could sense the amusement of its father and older brother, and could not wait to join in.

“Don’t worry, Little One.” Brienne grinned adoringly as she spoke to her unborn child. “Your father will take you to the edge of the tide, as well. As soon as you are big enough.” She sighed. Brienne recalled her nervousness the first time Jaime had taken Galladon into the surf. She had never trusted the sea, not since it had taken her brother. She could barely watch as those she loved most in the world, tempted fate and dared to wade out past their ankles. However, she trusted her husband, and soon found her tense fear fading as she watched her son’s sheer delight. Reassured by Jaime’s fierce protectiveness of their son, Brienne knew he would never allow anything that could possibly threaten their children.

Brienne shifted upon the pillow-filled chaise which Jaime had insisted be laid on the sand for her, under the silken cabana that shielded her from the sun. How different this time was for her than the way she had spent the months of her first pregnancy, trapped and alone in a dark cold cell. She shuddered to remember the fear under which she had lived, certain she would never see her child draw breath. Another strong nudge from within brought her back from the painful thoughts. Brienne shoved the dark memories once again to the back of her mind where she hoped they would disappear. Almost in gratitude to its mother’s resolve, the babe let loose with another firm kick to Brienne’s side. She grinned, and soothed the nerves of her abdomen, imagining her caress upon her soon to be born babe. She marveled at the connection between them.

Peering up from her motherly imaginings, Brienne’s smile widened upon seeing Jaime and Galladon making their way back up the beach to her. She chuckled as she watched them, her heart bursting with love. Brienne reveled in the blessings which the Gods had given her, and gave a silent prayer of thanks. Almost sensing his mother’s joy, Galladon let out a loud giggle and ran, as best he could, covering the distance between himself and his mother in babyish glee.

“Mama!” He squealed in his high pitched baby voice, his arms open wide.

Brienne reached down and held out her hands for her child to brace himself upon as he climbed onto the chaise and settled in at her side, her loving grin matching his. Jaime followed a few moments later, a wide happy smile upon his own lips at the sight of his little family. He grabbed a linen from a stack at the foot of the chaise and dried himself and Galladon from their romp in the ocean. Brienne loosened the bodice of the flowing smock she wore and nestled their son close to nurse from her. Jaime sat at her hip and draped his arm around her large belly. Brienne swore that her husband had not removed his hand from their growing babe for the whole of her pregnancy. She rested her fingers atop his, and gazed at him sweetly.

Jaime regarded Brienne and their children, pride shining on his face. “Soon, you will have two of my babes at your breast.” He sighed in fascination, bending to kiss the soft skin of her jaw.

Brienne gloried in his caring attention and twisted her neck to receive his adoration. “Very soon, I think.” She informed him, rubbing her abdomen beside his warm touch. “Your child has been very active within my womb today.” Brienne chuckled. “It feels as though our babe is running out of room.” Her lilting laugh was contagious as Jaime joined her in anticipation.

He moved himself level with his wife’s swollen waistline and laid a kiss upon her belly through the fabric of her frock. “Hello, in there. This is your father.” He announced to their child, as Brienne stifled a laugh. “Let your mother rest.” Jaime ordered, playfully. “She will shortly bring you into this world, and she will need all of her strength.” He followed his teasing ultimatum by grazing another kiss along the bulge of Brienne’s middle.

At the very moment that Jaime laid his face to Brienne’s abdomen, the babe within her answered with a hard kick that stretched at her skin, and made contact with his mouth. Feigning injury, he sprawled on the mattress with his wife and son. “I believe this one is going to be as willful as your mother.” He swore to Galladon, who looked at him quizzically and continued to suckle while Jaime pretended to be shocked.

Brienne graced him with an understanding smile, and traced a circle over the spot that her unborn child had just made its presence known. “You sort of asked for that.” She quipped, running her other hand through his hair.

Jaime rubbed his mouth as if he had just received the strongest punch of his life, his face beaming with amusement. “Yes. I suppose I did.” He wholeheartedly agreed, all the while never removing his arm from around Brienne’s belly.  
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That night Brienne nestled against Jaime in their bed, his body a cushioning support to her cumbersome frame. Her husband’s arms enwrapped Brienne as if she and the babe she carried were the most vaulable treasure ever known to the world. At last finding comfort for her aching muscles, she dozed in his sweet adoration. He had settled her shift just below her full breasts, his hand tracing the outline of her rounded abdomen, as his lips followed the curve of her neck. Nuzzling behind her ear, he hit an especially sensitive nerve which made Brienne gasp and giggle at the tickle of his whiskers brushing against her throat. At that moment, as Jaime’s fingers caressed her skin, their soon to be born child seemed to turn a somersault within its mother, making Brienne’s entire belly jump. The blissful couple dissolved in joyful laughter and looked excitedly toward meeting their second child.

After a moment, Brienne and Jaime returned to their quite revelry. Brienne closed her eyes, enjoying the closeness of the man she loved. When at last her eyelids opened once more, she could not mistake the look of sadness which loomed over Jaime’s expression. She feared he was imagining and remembering other times, another family, long passed and long dead. Brienne did not want to believe that Jaime’s thoughts might be consumed with Cersei and the children he had shared with her, however, she could not bear the remorse she saw in his eyes.

“What is it?” She asked, almost fearfully, laying her hand caringly along his clenched jaw.

Jaime’s gaze washed over her with such intense sorrow, and so much devotion that her image of his concern for another woman and other children disappeared from her mind. He sighed slowly. “I never felt Galladon moving within you.” Jaime whispered to her. “Not before your time had come upon you.” He told her, his expression begging forgiveness. “Not like this.” Suddenly, he could not meet his wife’s eyes.

Brienne turned closer to him. She brought his face up to meet hers, and spoke with earnest compassion. “You were there when we needed you the most.” She comforted. “You brought him into the world, and kept us both safe.” She reminded.

“After an unimaginable ordeal.” The tears in his eyes displayed his bitter sorrow. “I shall never forgive myself.” He held her as tightly as he dared.

Brienne regarded him with love. There was no need for his contrition. “Does it help that I forgive you?” She asked, smiling adoringly at him. Jaime’s chuckle told her that the terrible memory was leaving his mind. “If you had known of our distress, you would have moved the Heavens and everything beneath to get to us. I know that.” Brienne assured him.

“How is it that I should even deserve you?” He marveled.

Her smile widened. “Possibly because you, My Love, are the most magnificent husband, and the most wonderful father any woman could hope for.” She praised him. “And I love you with all of my heart.” Brienne choked back her own adoring tears.

Jaime searched Brienne’s face, and found only passion and affection. It mirrored the emotions in which he held her so dear. “Oh, how I love you.” He vowed to her before his lips met hers, and kissed her ardently.

The past left where it belonged, Brienne and Jaime lay with each other in the darkness, one child waiting to make its entrance into the world, and the other cooing softly in his sleep from the next room. Unable to fight the fatigue of her pregnancy any longer, Brienne drifted off and was soon sleeping soundly in Jaime’s arms. He remained awake, holding the woman he loved, and feeling the life they had made stir within her. He would never take them for granted, nor the knowledge of how lucky he was. At length he joined Brienne in slumber.  
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A few hours later, in the middle of the night, Brienne was awakened by a sharp pain which squeezed her middle and doubled her over from the force of it. She knew instantly that her time had come. Gasping for breath and clutching her rounded abdomen, her eyes searched the short distance to Jaime through the darkness. He lay pleasantly unaware, still sleeping on the pillow beside her. As the tightness in her belly subsided she understood, to her relief, that she had not awakened him. Brienne knew her spasms would greatly worsen. She also remembered that it would be hours before her laboring would reach its urgency. Deciding to let Jaime sleep as long as she could, Brienne laid softly back in the bed, cradled her swollen belly, and waited for more.

As the early morning hours passed, Brienne found her pains growing, as well as her anxiety. She was grateful not to be spending this time on horseback, as she had during the birth of her first child, but was still nervous at the trial to come. Although she had been attended by both maester and midwife for months, and had been deemed in excellent health, she still could not help thinking of both her mother and Jaime’s. Each had been healthy, and each had died in childbed after bringing forth several babes. For a moment, Brienne allowed the terror of facing the birth to overcome her usually calm demeanor. A silent tear fell from behind her lids, as she tried desperately to calm her nervous breathing.

After struggling through another hard pain, Brienne found that she could no longer lie still in the bed, with Jaime sleeping peacefully beside her. She needed to move, to stretch, and to writhe in agony when her contractions hit their zenith. Quietly, Brienne drew back the blankets, and lifted her heavy form from the mattress. With her hands placed against the backs of her hips, she stretched the tension from her muscles. Taking a deep breath, she began to pace the bed chamber, preparing for the onslaught of another pain, as her body tried to move her babe downward inside her.

Brienne attempted to rest in the chair beside the fire, the soothing warmth calming her muscles a bit. However, it did not last, her body soon attacked her again. It was almost as if her anatomy was mocking her for having the audacity to attempt birthing another child after having been blessed with the babe she never thought she would see to his life. Fighting the urge to yell against the pain, Brienne but her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that twisting her waist until her spine protested might ease her agony. It did not. Once the tightening of her belly had calmed she collapsed against the chair back, trying to catch her breath, certain she could not stay quiet much longer. Everything in her wanted to wake Jaime, but she resisted.

Once she could again breathe easily, Brienne went to check on Galladon. She found her first child sleeping as sweetly as his father. Nestling the soft blanket around her son’s tiny chest, Brienne held his tiny hand in hers. She prayed the day would see her second babe safely into the world to join its brother, and their mother still living. A sob choked her throat, as her abdomen constricted again. She clutched her tender belly and stumbled to the bedchamber. Her legs growing weak, Brienne braced herself against the little cradle that had been set at the foot of the bed, awaiting the babe she was about to bring forth. She gripped the rail of the heirloom until her knuckles were white from the effort, Unable to bear anymore, Brienne let a low uncontrollable moan escape her throat.

The sounds of Brienne’s struggle roused Jaime from his slumber. He rose from the pillow uncertain what was occurring, his eyes adjusting to the dim light of the embers in the hearth. At once he realized that Brienne did not lay beside him. He turned to see her bathed in the firelight. She was bent in agony, her face contorted with pain, gasping for the breath her own lungs were denying her. Suddenly frantic, Jaime jumped from the bed and was at Brienne’s side within moments.

“Why did you not wake me?” Jaime implored. “The babe? Is it coming?” He asked in fear, wrapping Brienne in his arms.

Brienne valiantly tried to smile as her body relaxed. With one hand she grasped Jaime’s wrist, while her other rose to touch his face. “There was no reason for both of us to lose sleep.” She explained as calmly as she could, her face somehow amazingly sweet with love as she gazed at him. “I believe our babe is nearer to making his or her appearance, but I still have a long way to go.” She sighed, already leaning against him with fatigue.

“Are you sure?” He asked uncertainly.

Brienne gladly accepted the support of his body, and nodded. “Remember how long we road when I labored with Galladon?” She recalled. Jaime was too nervous to answer. “It will yet be some time.” She assured him.

“What can I do?” He begged, eager to ease her pain through his own anxiety.

She smiled. “Just this.” She told him gratefully, bringing her eyes to his. “Just hold me.” Brienne told him. Jaime vowed silently that if she needed him to, he would never let her go.

And so, the rest of the night was spent with Brienne toiling through her pains as they continued to grow stronger, closer, and more intense. Jaime did his best to comfort her, feeling wholly inadequate to truly help her. He walked beside her as she needed, sat with her when she wanted, rubbed the angry knots from her muscles, and tried to soothe the battle being waged within his wife to bring their child forth. He was thankful that this time, Brienne was in need of him and wanting him near. It was so different than her laboring with Galladon. He recalled when they hid in the darkness of the abandoned cottage and she would not even let him near her. So frightened she had been from her improvement by Cersei, that she was unable to trust his protectiveness. Now, he felt her desperation for him.

As if reading his mind, Brienne stopped her pacing and regarded him lovingly. “My heart is so glad you are here with me.” She confessed, as he held her closer. “Don’t let them make you stay from side.” She pleaded. “I need you here with me, when the babe comes.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “I cannot do this without you.” Brienne declared, tears forming in her eyes at the thought that Jaime would be kept away from her during the birth of their child.

He kissed her temple, and shook his head. “Fear not, My Love.” He reassured her. “Fire breathing fucking dragons could not keep me from your side.” He vowed. They both dissolved in guarded laughter, at his meaning.

At dawn, their vigil was diverted as their son’s hungry waking cry echoed from his bassinet in the adjacent room. “I shall fetch the nurse.” Jaime offered, anxious to provide Brienne any help she needed.

Brienne laid her hand upon his arm. “No. Bring him here.” She bid. “I will feed him.” Her soft tone contrasted her furrowed brow.

“But, Dearest.” Jaime began worriedly. “You are laboring.” He cautioned.

Brienne calmed him with a sweet glance. “He needs to eat, and I have enough to give him.” She tried to relieve Jaime’s worry. “I want a moment with him.” She said, a tinge of sadness in her voice. “The nurses will take him from me soon, and I need him with me a while longer.” She realized this would be the last time it would be just Galladon in her care. Although Brienne was overjoyed that she would soon be shared with another babe, she would miss her special times with her first born.

“Very well.” Jaime agreed. “Whatever you wish.” He conceded to Brienne’s hopeful request. He took her hand and kissed her fingers as he sat her gently upon their bed. Then he strode quickly to the nursery. He disappeared for only a moment before returning, holding Galladon snuggly next to him.

Brienne smiled and held open her arms to welcome their boy to her. Galladon returned her joyful greeting, and stretched for her embrace. She wrapped him around her cumbersome body, and opened the ties of her bodice so he could break his fast. The toddler sucked greedily from her, and Brienne soon found her nerves soothed by the calming familiarity of their routine. Even the spasm that hit her while she was nursing did not seem as severe with her little boy near. Jaime sat next to Brienne, massaging the muscles of her back and looking upon his wife and children with awe.

With both Brienne and Galladon satisfied, and his nerves already on edge, Jaime took the opportunity to plead his case. “There, you are both appeased and content.” He kissed Brienne’s hair, and laid his hand atop her protruding belly. “At least for a moment.” He chuckled, apprehensively. “Will you please allow me to call for the maester and the midwife?” He begged.

Brienne shook her head emphatically. “Not yet.” She announced. “I do not want them barking orders at me, yet.” She explained. “They think they know my body better than I do.” Her mind replayed the prying eyes and probing hands of Casterly Rock’s maester, and the plump old woman who had been hired to see to Brienne’s delivery. “This is our child.” She nestled closer to Jaime. “We have done this before.” She smiled wistfully. “I just want this to be us. Just for a little while longer.” Brienne looked earnestly into his eyes. “We will summon them when they are needed, alright?” She asked hopefully.

Jaime had never truly told Brienne how terrified he had been the night he helped her birth Galladon. The fearful look that he saw upon her face as she stuggled courageously to bring forth their son after so long an ordeal in the dungeons of the Red Keep, had plagued him for sometime after. Now, even as she fought the pain of laboring with their second child, she wore a relaxed and peaceful expression. She was calm, and confident. Although inside, he was practically hysterical and frightened out of his mind, Jaime found himself comforted and encouraged by her bravery. He could not deny her the time, she needed.

Jaime gave Brienne a proud, but concerned sigh. “When you put it that way, how can I contradict you?” He smiled. “But you must tell me when the babe is close, so I can call for them.” He insisted.

“I promise.” Brienne assured him. “When the girls bring the breakfast tray, they can inform the maester and the midwife, so they will be ready.” She compromised. “You can have them station outside the door, and the nurses can take Galladon in a little while.” She permitted. Jaime nodded his acceptance of her offer.

Brienne’s face suddenly grew serious, as she moved her hand to cover her middle. “Now, I need you to take him.” She said, starting to breath heavily.

“Another one?” Jaime asked nervously as he took Galladon into his arms.

“Yes.” Brienne tried to smile, reaching for his hand. His grip gave her the resistance she needed to fight through the pain. His presence gave her the courage to face it with hope and faith.

The morning came and went, and by the time the sun outside rose to the middle of the sky, Brienne was deep in her labor. The happy sweet smile she had worn earlier had been replaced by an exhausted, pain-filled grimace. The maids and nurses waited dutifully in the hallway, and when Brienne’s water broke, Jaime hurried them in to usher Galladon from the chamber. Brienne watched tearfully as her son was taken from her, but had no time to dwell on her disappointment.

“I think I’d like to lie down now.” Brienne told Jaime wearily. He supported her to bed, and layed her carefully into the quilts.

There was no time to relax, as the pummeling of her insides continued. As afternoon bled into evensong, Jaime and Brienne faced her trial together. Her pains mounting, he never left her side. His strong grip was her lifeline, his presence her focus. He spoke quiet words of strength to her, and did his best to distract his wife with his touch and his voice. As the sun slipped from view through the windows, Brienne began to sense the pressure that would force their babe toward life.

Clutching Jaime’s fist with one hand, and her aching belly with the other, Brienne arched her back and muttered an agonized moan. “It’s time to fetch the midwife.” She warned.

At her order, Jaime jumped to his feet and scurried for the door. Before reaching halfway there he pivoted and returned frenzied to Brienne’s bedside. He hastily took her face in his palm, and kissed her cheek tenderly. “I love you.” Jaime beamed proudly at her.

Brienne did her best to smile through her hasty panting. “I love you, too.” She answered breathlessly. Somehow, her exhausted eyes sparkled at him. “Now go!” She gasped, her voice rising in urgency.

Jaime nodded. “Yes. Yes.” He capitulated. “I’m going.” He called behind him as he again ran for the door. Upon reaching the threshold, he threw the door open, ready to spring into the hallway. Much to his relief, Jaime found those he sought already waiting for his beckoning.

The gray-haired, rose-cheeked midwife, hurried to tend to Brienne with a comforting smile, as the maester took his place near the bedside should he be needed. Jaime returned to Brienne’s side, eyeing the new participants in the birth of his child threateningly, almost daring them to try to make him leave. Neither of them made any attempt to remove Jaime or distance him from Brienne.

“Your little one ready to join us?” The midwife asked Brienne pleasantly, throwing back the quilts to expose her patient’s body to examination.

Brienne held tight to Jaime’s hand and nodded in reply. “I need to push.” She answered insistently as the old lady spread her legs, her fingers disappearing between them, and Brienne wincied in discomfort.

“Then, by all means.” The midwife suggested. “Go on and push. You’re ready.” She reported, pulling back her hand, and laying it upon Brienne’s upbent knee.

Brienne blew her breath out threw pursed lips, and gave Jaime a willing look as she pulled his hand closer within hers. He nodded to her with a nervous but ready grin. Hastily, he took a seat on the mattress behind her, supporting her to sit upright. “Remember what I told you, when Galladon was coming.” Jaime recalled. “You are Brienne Lannister of Tarth. The strongest woman in Westeros.” He said to strengthen her resolve. “You can do this.” He encouraged.

Brienne could resist no longer. Her body called to her with an urge she had no wish to fight. She breathed deeply, lowered her chin to her chest, gritted her teeth, and strained against the compelling need in her belly. Her guttural groan becoming a painful wail as she pushed through her pain. Brienne’s fingers squeezed Jaime’s with all her might. He returned her strength and held fast to her.

“Push. Push!” He rallied her, as she tended to her woman’s work. After a moment, Brienne relaxed against her husband’s shoulder, resting and readying herself for the next assault.

Brienne labored long into the night. Each answer to her body’s urging brought on a deeper even more desperate need, her loud complaining wails turning to cries and finally to screams as she began to feel her babe emerge from her body. Jaime bathed her face with cool clothes, and braced her against the forces of her own body, trying to kiss away her pain. As the end drew near, suddenly Brienne stopped her brave battling.

“You are almost there, My Lady.” The midwife aided. “Do not stop, now.” She tried to hearten Brienne for her final effort.

“No!” Brienne sobbed, turning to Jaime. His worry consumed him listening to her plea. “I want our babe to born into your arms.” Brienne cried. “As Galladon was.” She begged him, her face lined with desperation and pain.

Jaime regarded Brienne with reverence, and brushed his lips against her temple as he moved from behind her. “I would have it no other way, My Love.” He replied, taking his place in front of her to watch over their child’s birth. The midwife happily moved aside to make way the babe’s father.

Brienne smiled lovingly at him through her suffering. She hunched herself forward, and took hold of his shoulders to bolster herself as she had done when she birthed their son.

“Are you ready?” Jaime asked her, nervously.

Brienne answered with a loving imperative nod. She was more than anxious to be finished, and eager to greet the new life they had made. She could fight the force no longer. Gasping, she bore down again, crying out as she felt the burning stretch of their babe tearing through her.

Jaime smiled at Brienne in amazement. “I see it. It’s coming!” He shouted excitedly. His mind recalled all the times he had felt the tiny being move within her. Now they were moments from bringing that precious life into the world. “Push!” He ordered.

Brienne complied, exerting herself again. This time she felt her baby’s head leave her. “The head is out.” Jaime nearly laughed with joy.

He reached down to support the infant’s neck, and provide a gentle pull to help Brienne’s give birth. “Push. Push!” He encouraged, but there was no need.

Brienne could not control the demands of her muscles, as they forced the babe from her, it took only a few more attempts and a mighty scream, and their babe was finally born. She relaxed, and searched for breath with a smile as their child’s cry filled the room. Her ordeal over.

Tears of joy flowing freely from Jaime’s eyes, he held up a scrunched and squalling little face to meet its mother. The vision was matched only by the first view of their son. Both equally beautiful. “It’s a girl.” Jaime announced. “A daughter.” He told Brienne with pride.

Jaime laid the tiny infant in Brienne’s outstretched arms. He quickly moved around the mattress to take them both in his embrace. Her happy tears met his as they welcomed their newborn into the world. Brienne cradled her babe to her, and sighed with the unconditional love of a mother finally holding her long awaited infant.

“She is breathtaking.” Jaime cupped his hand around his daughter protectively. “Just like her mother.” He kissed Brienne’s forehead, and trailed his lips to hers. She answered his passion in loving return.

Barely able to control her happy sobs, Brienne reached for Jaime’s face. “I love you.” She whispered, ardently.

Jaime held Brienne tightly, his heart bursting with thoughts of the family they had created, and how much he adored her. “I love you, My Wife.” He swore.

Brienne raised their daughter to her face, kissing her slick little head, and reveling in the sound of her first cries. Jaime nestled them back onto the pillows as the midwife calmly severed the cord which connected child to mother, and helped Brienne finish her delivery. She cleaned Brienne and dressed her for the bleeding that would come, and for the bed rest she badly needed. Brienne herself barely felt the commotion at the foot of her bed, so enthralled she was in enjoying her daughter along with her husband. Jaime could not take his eyes from their glowing faces, nor his arms from around them. He wept openly, unable to control his happy tears, his heart overflowing with love.

“My Lady.” The midwife, cleared her throat. “I should clean her.” She smiled sweetly and compassionately.

Brienne sighed happily but reluctantly, understanding the woman’s need to bathe her newborn. She smiled at Jaime, who was finally able to return her grin. “Alright.” Brienne conceded. “Please do not be too long.” She begged.

“She will be back in your arms in no time.” The woman comforted her, and smiled softly.

Brienne gave up her infant, hesitant to feel her gone for a moment. The midwife held the babe carefully and laid her on a clean linen at the foot of the bed. With another warm wet cloth she cleaned the child of the remnants of her birth. Jaime held Brienne in his strong reassuring grasp. She clung to him joyfully.

Jaime brought Brienne’s fingers to his lips and kissed them. “We have not yet chosen a name for our beautiful little girl.” He reminded her, as she leaned against him. Throughout Brienne’s pregnancy, they had considered a long list of suitable christenings for their child, but had finally decided to wait until the babe arrived, feeling certain one would stand out when they finally beheld their infant.

Brienne lifted her chin proudly as their babe, cleanly napkined and swaddled, was laid once more into her arms. “I know exactly what her name should be.” She smiled at Jaime. Brienne placed a kiss upon their child’s tiny forehead, and regarded her with loving pride. “Joanna.” Brienne declared. “Her name will be Joanna.” She returned her tired but radiant eyes to her husband.

Jaime gasped at the perfection of Brienne’s suggestion. It was his own dear mother’s name with which she had graced their child. Even the babe seemed to glorify in her new moniker as she wriggle and cooed with delight in Brienne’s arms. A glowing smile drifted onto Jaime’s face as he rested his head against her hair, his eyes studying their babe with fascination.

“You are the most amazing woman that has ever graced this world.” Jaime swore as he trailed kisses down Brienne’s temple and onto her cheek. Finding her lips, he lost himself in their passionate kiss. She melted into his soft loving grasp.

Her body spent, and her heart full, Brienne crumpled against Jaime’s chest, the fatigue of her ordeal beginning to set in. Feeling the fullness of the need within her body, Brienne loosened the wrap of her shift and held her babe gently to her breast. The infant took to her happily, and suckled greedily, sighing with contentment between gulps. Jaime rested his hand softly against their new little bundle, sheltered Brienne in the crook if his arm as she fed their child, and considered himself the luckiest a man in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms.

Once the babe’s stomach was full, and Brienne could fight sleep no longer, Jaime tenderly lifted Joanna from her arms, and happily took charge of their child’s care. He nestled Brienne against the pillows once again, and kissed her forehead. He would sit beside her, holding their newborn daughter while she slept. “Sleep now, My Love.” He bid her. “When you awaken, we shall introduce our precious little girl to her big brother.” He said softly in anticipation, as Brienne drifted into her well deserved slumber, the smile upon her lips saying all she had not the strength to voice. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne’s family grows. Their love remains as strong as ever.

Soft morning sunshine peaked through the windows of Jaime and Brienne’s bedchamber. One of Jaime’s greatest joys had become waking before Brienne, so he could enjoy watching the last few moments of her slumber, the dim rays of light washing over her and bathing her features in brilliance. He would lay beside her listening to the final remnants of her sweet dreams in the gentle sighs that she breathed, and counting every one a blessing. Then, when Brienne began to stir, he would nestle close to her, wrapping her in his arms and welcoming her to the dawn with kisses.

As he watched his wife lying there, so lovely and peaceful in the still of the morning, Jaime could not wait, and he could not help himself. He burrowed his face into Brienne’s neck and inhaled the sweet softness of her. He could have laid there for eternity. Unable to keep from her, he draped his arm over her quiet sleeping form, and held her strong body next to him. Within a few moments, she sighed deeply, happily, and stirred.

“Forgive me, Dearest. I did not mean to wake you.” Jaime whispered into Brienne’s ear, kissing her lobe for emphasis. “I could not be parted from you any longer.” He felt her smile.

Brienne rolled her neck to look sideways at him, her eyes heavy with waking and affection. “You didn’t wake me.” She giggled. Brienne turned heavily toward him on the mattress, and pulled his embrace over her rounded middle. “This one did.” She grinned. Jaime joined her in merriment as their youngest child, yet unborn, began what seemed a dance within her belly. The babe was six moons strong within her womb, and was growing more energetic each day.

“From the moment they are conceived, I believe our children to be the happiest creatures in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms.” Brienne beamed, bringing her hand to caress Jaime’s jaw.

“Why should they not be, with you as their mother?” He laughed warmly and kissed her temple.

“And you as their father.” Brienne declared proudly, leaning her head back, awaiting his tender kiss upon her lips. Jaime did not allow the blinking of a eye to laspse before answering her silent plea. He bent his head and tasted her lips lusciously.

He had not lifted his mouth from hers before his hand slid delicately up her pregnant form, grasping what he could of her rib cage, and playing along the soft swollen curve of her breast. Brienne caught her breath from the sensation, and the anticipation of what was to come. She exhaled a low wanting moan into Jaime’s mouth. It was as he began to bring her leg gingerly around his hip that they heard the almost imperceptible commotion of whispers outside their chamber door. Jaime and Brienne eyed each other with amusement and dissolved in laughter.

“Who’s there?” Jaime called, feigning ferocity. The door opened slowly to the scuffling sound of little feet. “Who’s there?” He repeated, as two innocent little faces quickly scampered toward their bed to the sound of their father’s bluffing threat.

Galladon, now five years of age, and his sister Joanna, slightly more than a year younger, scampered across the room and jumped atop their parents bed. Their excited, and happy laughter rang through the room, as they were nestled into the blankets between Jaime and Brienne. Mother and father smiled joyously at each other. Although their morning passions had been interrupted, they chrerished every movement with their precious children.

As each child had grown, they had been moved from the nursery to their own bed chambers across from that of their parents. Although they were still young enough to share quarters, Jaime flatly refused. Never would he have ever believed that his own cherished children would fall into the same sinful behaviors he had with Cersei when they were young, but he was not about to take any chances. So their beds were kept separate, but their sibling closeness flourished. Jaime gave thanks that theirs was simply the normal, natural bond of playmates.

Just as the family was settling into the warmth of the quilts, a small stirring from the adjacent chamber brought Brienne and Jaime’s attentions in that direction, their smiles growing wider. “Allow me.” Jaime offered, kissing Brienne once more, then crawling from the blankets and padding across the room. He disappeared into the small room while Brienne greeted her son and daughter with sweet embraces and kisses. After a few moments, Jaime emerged from the nursery, carrying a toddler of not quite two years in his arms. The child, who favored his mother, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and perched comfortably in his father’s arms.

The boy had been honored as the namesake of his father’s brother, Tyrion, and was called Ty for short by nearly everyone. Jaime felt it fitting to at least pay some small homage to his father Lord Tywin, by using a part of the man’s name to refer to his son. The lone refusal in the family at addressing the child by his nickname was the member for whom the babe had been named. The Hand of the King insisted upon calling the child, Little Tyrion. Jaime swore his brother’s head had swollen to at least twice it’s size at learning his youngest nephew would carry his name. While Tyrion loved all the children equally, he insisted the name had somehow given him a special bond with the babe. Jaime was happy not to contradict Tyrion’s assumptions. Having retrieved Ty from the family cradle, Jaime buried his face in his little son’s sleep mussed hair and placed an adoring kiss on the boy’s head, drinking in the smell of him.

“I will take him.” Brienne offered with a warm affectionate nod, stretching her arms to accept her babe to break his fast at her breast. She cradled her child around her belly, filled once again with life, and nursed him lovingly.

“Tell us, Father.” Galladon pleaded as Jaime returned to his side of the bed, and scooped his daughter Joanna, who was seated closest to him, into his lap. “Tell us again of the brave Knight who saved the Beautiful Knight from the Evil Queen. Please!” Galladon continued.

“Yes. Please!” Joanna looked up so sweetly into her father’s face that it took the breath from his lungs.

“Don’t either of you ever get tired of that one?” He laughed. Brienne rolled her eyes, knowing full well it was Jaime himself who created their children’s fascination with the story of how their family was created. She was very much aware that her husband loved sharing the tale again and again.

“No.” The children squealed. “Please!” They begged.

“Well.” Jaime gave a long full sigh, squeezing Joanna in a tight embrace and laying a kiss atop her head. “Let’s see, how does it begin?” He teased.

“Remember.” Galladon urged, impatiently. “It starts at Winterfell.” Jaime was certain his eldest son could recite the story word for word, but was glorying in the boy’s hero worship.

“Oh, yes. I remember now.” Jaime reached out and tossled Galladon’s hair as the boy leaned against Brienne’s arm.

With that, Jaime began his story as if he were a bard. “Long ago, in a far off land, where Winter had not let loose it’s grip in many years, a valiant knight won the heart of his lady love.” He gave Brienne a reminiscing smile. His wife eyed him with the same fond memories as he continued. “She, a skilled warrior herself, was the loveliest thing the knight had ever laid his eyes upon.” He stole another lustful look at Brienne. “In that kingdom, a great battle would be waged for the lives of all.” Jaime again studied Brienne, unable to take his eyes from her. She returned his gaze bashfully. “It was there that the very brave and very handsome knight journeyed to claim the heart of his true love.” He told them.

“That was you!” Galladon cheered.

“And Mother!” Joanna joined in.

Brienne’s eyes gleamed. “Yes. My dears. That was us.” She confirmed, her eyes traveling lovingly over Jaime’s frame.

Jaime laughed and drew closer to his beloved family. Even little Ty’s attention was transfixed upon his father’s face as he wove his tale. Watching the amazed looks on the faces of his son and daughter, Jaime found even greater passion for the images his words painted for them. As always, Brienne was astonished by her husband’s storytelling skills. It seemed the knight grew braver and more handsome with each of his tellings.

Jaime, inspired by the engrossed attention of his family, became more animated, describing the events of his tale. The Dead became more numerous, the dragons more ferocious, the knight’s heartbreak at leaving the one he loved more devastating, and their trek across Westeros while hiding from the royal army became even more harrowing. The children hung on his every word, awe in their eyes as he continued.

“There in that tiny ruined cottage, the brave knight delivered his lady love of their first born child, a son.” He regarded Brienne proudly with the memory.

“That was me!” Galladon interrupted gleefully.

“Yes, My Son.” Jaime nodded. “That was you.” He smiled, and cradled the boy’s chin proudly.

After the breakfast trays were brought to Lord and Lady Lannister’s chamber the children sat by the fire, fed and eager to hear more. Galladon held his younger brother, while Jaime continued to regale them with the story they already knew by heart. Brienne sat in her usual place beside her husband, and found herself equally enthralled by the events through which she had lived. They came clearly to her mind as Jaime described them.

The children’s eyes were wide as he described the quest of the brave knight to kill the Queen who so threatened his family and their happiness. They shook with excitement upon hearing how the knight had taken his own evil sister’s head, and had then ridden to fetch his love’s father to her side.

“Grandfather!” Galladon and Joanna gasped, and peered knowingly at each other. Brienne found herself giggling at their enthusiasm.

Joanna was completely captivated as Jaime described the knight’s sweet proposal to the woman he loved, and the wedding of the two soulmates. Galladon gave a slightly uninterested yawn, and jiggled Ty a bit uncomfortably on his legs. The babe sensed his brother’s unwillingness to hold him any longer and stretched his arm up for his mother. Brienne bent as best she could over her cumbersome form, and lifted the child onto what remained of her lap.

“It was not long before the happy couple were blessed with their second child, a beautiful little girl.” Jaime went on.

“Me!” Joanna declared, satisfied.

“Yes, you!” Jaime bent and tweaked her nose sweetly. Joanna dissolved into laughter.

“The years that followed saw the Lord and Lady blessed with another strapping son.” He smiled as reached out to cradles Ty’s head in his palm. “And now the family is nearly complete.” Jaime came to the end of his tale, for nothing more had been yet written in the story of their lives. “They are happy, healthy, and are awaiting the arrival of a new addition to fill the house with still more love and laughter.” Jaime gave Brienne a loving look and traced his hand softly over the bulge of her belly. She caught his finger and brought them to her lips in a grateful kiss.

Unable to bear the space between them, Jaime leaned over and placed his lips onto Brienne’s, kissing her strong and slow. The children groaned and fell over, as they witnessed their parents’ usual display of affections. Jaime and Brienne laughed at the reaction through their kiss.

When they had finished their enjoyment of each other’s lips, Jaime looked at Galladon and Joanna, laying in a heap on the floor infront of him. He gave them an exaggerated innocent sneer. “What? Can’t a brave knight show his beautiful knight wife that he loves her?” He asked the youngsters, as if they decided such matters.

“I will answer that.” Brienne proclaimed, pulling Jaime closer to her. “Of course you can.” Her smile sparkled as her eyes begged for another kiss. Jaime happily obliged. Even at their young ages, Galladon and Joanna understood they would never keep their mother and father from demonstrating their love for each other. The children simply rolled their eyes, and laughed hysterically.

When Jaime and Brienne satiated their celebration of each other, he slid from his seat and joined their children on the floor. He scooped them up in his embrace. They wrapped their arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly, a feeling of which he would never tire. Sitting with his legs crossed, he sat one on each knee, and regarded them very seriously.

“I think the Lannister family could use a day outside in the fresh air and sunshine.” He offered, and looked questioningly up at Brienne. Ty, perched upon her lap watching intently. He hoped he had not spoken too soon, and that she felt up to it. “What would both think...” He asked Galladon and Joanna without ever taking his eyes from his wife. “... if it is not too taxing for her mother...” Jaime winked at Brienne, as her hand soothed the movement of their unborn child. “...about spending the afternoon at the shore?” He grinned hopefully.

The children whooped in excitement. “Oh yes, please, Father!” They entreated before jumping from his lap and running to Brienne. “Please, Mother?” They squealed, while jumping up and down in front of her, unable to contain their hopefulness. “Please say we can.” Joanna implored. Galladon clung to the arm of Brienne’s chair, looking as though he were in agony awaiting her answer.

Brienne delighted in her childrens’ exuberance. She touched their rosy cheeks in turn. Jaime lounged lazily in front of them and then draped an arm over his bent knee. His eyes met Brienne’s gleeful expression with a convincing plea in his upturned brow.

“Yes, Darling, Please?” Jaime joined in, his face contorted in an exaggerated petition. “Perhaps even a picnic dinner at sunset?” He suggested romantically. His glance skimmed over his son and daughter. “How could you possibly say ‘no’ to those little faces?” Jaime shrugged.

Brienne laughed out loud, throwing her head back in mirth. “Well.” She sighed in concession. “Since you put it that way.” She searched the children’s sweet faces. “How could I possibly refuse?” She capitulated joyfully. Galladon and Joanna cheered loudly. Jaime returned Brienne’s adoring gaze, even more in love with her than the day they were married.  
——————————  
The warm sun was beginning to dip into the sea. A soft breeze floated in from over the waves, bringing with it the sweet scent of salt and faraway unknown lands. The day had been glorious. Lord and Lady Lannister had spent the happy hours with their darling children enjoying the shoreline of Casterly Rock. Jaime had frolicked in the shallows with Galladon and Joanna until their little noses and his back threatened to glow bright red. Brienne, six moons with child, spent the day relaxing with youngest son  
in the shade of a silken awning. When young Ty grew restless, she would venture forth into the bright light to dip his tiny toes into the sea foam, or walk with him hand in hand along the beach. The evening clouds billowed in the sky, painted orange, and pink, and purple by the golden light disappearing beyond the waves. As the surf had grown stronger, forcing the tide higher upon the sand, Jaime had moved the older children safely beyond the reach of the water, and was busy helping them construct a great island of sand, surrounded on all sides by the largest expanse of sea water which could be transported in a pail.

“It’s Tarth, Father!” Galladon affectionately proclaimed, with a wide beaming smile. The boy had grown to love the far away aisle of his mother’s house on the several visits the family had already enjoyed there. Their latest had been only a half year before. The children had been thrilled to visit their grandfather, Lord Selwyn, and were enchanted by Tarth. It was still nearly all they could speak of.

Jaime laughed heartily, and tossled his son’s hair. “It does look like your mother’s island.” He agreed, and lifted his shining smile to regard Brienne making her way over the drifts of sand to join then, Ty hanging onto her fingers. Her free hand rested lovingly atop her growing belly. For a moment, Jaime’s thoughts went back to the time they had spent on Tarth, his eyes grew whimsical at the memories of exploring the place where his wife had grown. He and Brienne were certain that the babe which now burgeoned within her womb had been conceived upon her ancestral lands. Jaime chuckled to think how literal their assumption was, remembering the long lazy afternoons, during which The Evenstar had insisted upon taking charge of the children. In those precious hours, he and Brienne slipped away, and had strolled far up onto the mountain sides. They made love within the wildflower laden meadows of the Tarthian countryside, the ocean waves serenading them from below. It was after one of those afternoon roams, that another Lannister accompanied them home to Casterly Rock, one who would making his or her appearance in a few short moons. After all that had passed, Jaime was often struck speechless at thinking how he had become the happiest man in all of the six kingdoms and beyond.

It seemed Brienne was reading her husband’s mind as she drew near. Her adoring smile rested upon his face, and their soft eyes met. Brienne let loose of her toddler’s hand, and he ran happily to join his brother and sister in their play.

“I’ll make Evenfall!” Joanna shouted happily, and began to arrange seashells in little fistfuls of sand to build the castle walls.

“A stronger fortress has never stood in all of Westeros, My Dear.” Jaime complimented his daughter, and kissed her head before standing to greet his wife.

“Look Mother.” Galladon beamed, as Brienne reached them.

She smiled proudly and stood in awe of their progress. “You’ve captured the very essence of Tarth, My Sweetlings.” Brienne announced, receiving happy satisfied grins from her first and second born. Her third babe preferred splashing in the small ocean they created around their island of sand. Brienne watched them all with a delighted smile, as Jaime sauntered to her side.

Jaime wrapped Brienne in his arms and nibbled her neck, holding her securely next him, her swollen abdomen pressing pleasantly against him. She giggled at the sensation of his whiskers upon her skin. He could scarce believe there was once a time he would have said she never snickered in such an adorable fashion. However, that had been long ago, in another life, before he could admit his love for her. He had found many ways to elicit that desired response since then. He leaned into her, relaxed and happy.

“The maids and porters should be bringing dinner any time.” Jaime told her. He had left specific instructions as to the timing of their picnic feast before they had ventured to the beach for day. Sundown, was his order, and the golden rays of light had nearly disappeared from the sky. “What would you say to getting our beautiful children satisfied with their meal, and then seeing them to bed?” He asked Brienne, laying his head against hers like a love sick adolescent.

Brienne leaned her babe-heavy form against him and smiled with a love-drunk giddiness. “Then whatever shall we do after that?” She teased.

Jaime’s embrace became more sensual as he imagined all that he wanted to do to his beloved Lady Knight. He remembered how their children had dragged them, earlier that day, from what promised to be a very passionate morning’s revelry. “I was thinking, My Lady Wife, that we might pick up where we left off when our little sea urchins awakened us this morning.” He eyed her seductively.

Brienne stretched and moaned lowly at his proposal, her body already filled with need for him. “I must say, My Lord Husband.” She smiled sublimely at him. “You are full of glorious ideas.” She praised, as her lips met his and they lost themselves in a sweet slow kiss.

Galladon and Joanna groaned from their vantage point sitting below them. “Ugh.” Their son complained, his eyes rolling toward the shadowing sky.

“They’re kissing again.” Joanna agreed in childish disgust.

Jaime and Brienne pretended not hear.  
—————————  
“When will my uncle arrive?” Young Ty questioned his father with all the eagerness of his nine years. His voice called loudly from a short distance across the courtyard of Casterly Rock. He had stopped pummeling the hay-stuffed fencing mannequin with his wooden blade so abruptly that he threw himself off balance and landed on his back side.

“Never take your eyes from you enemy, Ty dear.” His mother, who had been supervising him, warned with a kind tone. “You must try to ignore all distractions.” Brienne told her second son, as she helped him from the dirt and brushed the straw from his britches. The boy looked embarrassed, hoping his older brother, whom he idolized, had not seen. Brienne gave him an understanding wink, and patted his shoulder reassuringly.

“He’s our uncle, too!” Galladon shouted, annoyed at his little brother, before Jaime could respond. Instead, Lord Lannister bent to correct his eldest son’s stance in wielding his newly forged sword. The weapon had recently been presented to the boy for his twelfth Nameday, and the young warrior’ prized possession.

“Yes.” Eleven-year-old Joanna interjected, not wanting to be left out. “He’s our uncle, too.” She echoed, as she drilled her thrusts and parries with her own dull blade, at her father’s side.

“You are not named for him.” Ty gloated, lifting his chin proudly at his brother and sister.

“Now, now, Children.” Brienne settled the disagreement for her youngsters. “You know your Lord Uncle Tyrion loves all of you equally.” She declared, trying to hide the smile the curled at her lips watching their adorable disagreement.

Jaime stood to survey his troops. “And he spoils you all the same.” He assured them, an amused look crossing his face. He met his wife’s eyes with a jovial knowing grin.

Brienne stepped the few paces to her husband’s side. “Oh, I believe he has plenty of help in that area.” She chided as she took Jaime’s arm.

“What?” Jaime gave her an overly innocent smile, and pulled her to him. “I simply want our children to have every opportunity.” Jaime confessed, kissing Brienne hard and strong. She melted into his embrace as she had always done over the years.

“Like this, Mother?” A sweet voice questioned in concentration from near where Brienne had stood a few moments before. A little girl of not more than seven years, with what her father deemed the face of a Tarthian angel, drew a wooden dagger from the leather scabbard she insisted be tied at her waist just as her mother wore the great weapon, Oathkeeper. Even at her young age, the girl used the same wide sweeping stroke to brandish her weapon as did Brienne. Lord and Lady Lannister had determined that all of their children would learn the art of the blade, and they were all showing the exceptional prowess inherited from their parents.

Brienne and Jaime’s youngest daughter had entered the world screaming louder than either of her brothers or her sister, a protest to the long and difficult labor which had born her. Her’s had been the only birth of any of his children in which Jaime feared he might lose Brienne. Even Galladon’s harrowing delivery while on the run from Cersei’s forces had not terrified him as much. Their fourth child had come early, and as he held his wife through the two brutal days of birthing he swore the infant would be their last. Jaime openly wept as he settled their tiny but healthy babe into the arms of her exhausted mother, finally allowing himself to relax in happiness. His fear that Brienne’s ordeal would end so terribly differently had been almost more than he could bear. They named their perfect little babe Annalyse, a blending of syllables which was an homage to the names of Brienne’s own mother and both her sisters. The child was a happy and contented babe, and seemed to complete their family perfectly, at least in Jaime’s perception. After her recovery, Jaime had insisted that Brienne take the moon tea following their passions, to avoid another grueling delivery. She complied, but he suspected, had not completely given up the idea of more children.

Jaime bounded across the yard, and scooped the child into his arms. “It’s perfect, my sweet one!” He declared with a proud grin. Annalyse giggled her response, happy in her father’s arms.  
——————————  
The little Lannisters could barely contain themselves when, a few hours later, their beloved uncle Tyrion came riding through the gates of Casterly Rock, in a grand carriage. His lead was followed by two caravan wagons filled with toys and treats brought all the way from King’s Landing for his adored nieces and nephews. He descended from the cab to the delighted squeals and cheers of his brother’s children. Tyrion happily embraced and greeted each one in turn.

Jaime and Brienne followed behind their children. Their smiles as wide and beaming as those of their young ones. “My goodness, Tyrion.” Jaime chuckled. “Did you leave anything in the capital for the children there?” He asked in amusement.

“That, my dear brother, is for their uncles to worry about.” Tyrion laughed as Jaime clapped him on the shoulder. “My only concern are these shining little faces.” He boasted, producing a stick of hard candy from his pocket for each child.

“Thank you, Uncle!” They chorused as they crowded around him, eager to share their news and triumphs.

“Alright, My Loves.” Brienne interjected. “Your uncle has traveled a long way, and is doubtless weary from his journey.” She attempted to calm them. “There will plenty of time to visit.” She smiled as she too bent to welcome Tyrion with a warm embrace.

“Thank you my dear sister.” He said. Tyrion had long ago disclosed to Brienne and Jaime how proud he was that he at last had a decent sister, of whom he could boast. A true closeness had grown between Jaime’s wife and brother. “I do fear I am not traveling as well as I once did.” Tyrion complained stretching his aching back.

“Very well then, my little knights.” Jaime bid the eager faces of his brood. “Why don’t you each take one of Uncle Tyrion’s bags to his chamber, and then we shall all sit down to dinner.” He told the children, who virtually fought each other to be first to grab a parcel and shepard it upstairs.

Tyrion stood back and watched the commotion with a glorious smile on his face. He stepped next to Jaime and saw the fatherly pride glowing in his brother’s eyes. “Never have such precious beings ever graced this world, until the two of you created all of those little treasures.” He admired. “You are greatly blessed, Brother.” Tyrion grinned at Jaime and Brienne, truly happy for them both.

Jaime’s arm was already snuggly around Brienne’s waist, and he pulled her tighter to him. “That I am, Brother.” Jaime agreed. “That I surely am.” He proclaimed, kissing Brienne vigorously. She returned his ardor, and then gazed at him adoringly.  
——————————  
The family celebrated late into the night. A small feast was prepared by the kitchen to welcome Lord Tyrion home. The children played games, and told stories to delight their uncle. They were mesmerized listening to tales of his extraordinary exploits made somehow more grandiose, while becoming appropriate for young ears by Tyrion’s master storytelling and generous goblets of wine. Jaime and Brienne oversaw the festivities with a wonderful mixture of contentment and glee.

As the evening turned to darkness, and darkness to midnight, Jaime watched Brienne’s energy slowly wane. Although the joy never left her face, and she happily engaged in the revelries and conversation, her husband could discern the fatigue that played behind her eyes. He had noticed the same tiring within her for weeks. Jaime’s intuition as Brienne’s husband made him now almost certain that his perceptions of what affected his wife was correct. The thought worried him immensely.

Before long, Annalyse, perched on Brienne’s lap, nodded off on her mother’s shoulder. Little Ty followed his sister’s lead with a large howling yawn. Even Joanna and Galladon did their best to stifle their own weariness, wanting desperately to stay up all night visiting with their uncle. When Jaime noticed Brienne’s cheek tilting to lay atop her small daughter’s head, and watched her fight to keep her eyes open, he declared the evening at an end.

Rising from his chair by the hearth, Lord Lannister walked to his Lady’s side and placed a soft kiss on her temple. “You are tired, My Love.” He spoke softly to Brienne. “Why don’t you see the children to bed, and then lie down yourself?” He offered.

Brienne sighed deeply at her Lord Husband’s touch. “Forgive me, Dearest.” She smiled sweetly at him. “Perhaps I over exerted myself in the yard today.” She said bashfully as Jaime helped her to her feet, Annalyse fast asleep in her arms.

She bid her goodnight to Tyrion as Jaime gathered the other children. “Everyone up to bed.” He ordered. Galladon, Joanna, and Ty tried to whine in protest but were silenced by one look from their father. “And do not give your mother any trouble.” He warned, but with a broad smile beaming across his face. “There will be plenty of time to spend with Uncle Tyrion during his visit.” Jaime coaxed. “Your mother is tired, and so are you.” He told them.

Reluctantly, the children rose and trudged toward the adults. “Goodnight Father. Goodnight Uncle.” They bid as they planted kisses upon the men’s cheeks.

Jaime took a moment to steady Brienne upon her feet, and hold her close. “I shall be up shortly.” He told her, the shadow of a worried frown over his brow.

“Oh no.” Brienne shook her head, considerately. “Stay, and visit with your brother.” She insisted. “I will be asleep before my head finds the pillow.” She smiled.

“Very well.” Jaime answered. “Send for me if you need me.” He said, placing another kiss upon her lips. Brienne nodded sweetly and gathered her children to escort them to their chambers.

“She looks exhausted.” Tyrion noted to Jaime with concern, after Brienne and the children had left the Great Hall.

Jaime returned to his seat next to his brother, and downed what remained of the wine in his goblet. He sat pensively, and exhaled loudly. “She is with child.” He answered, worry overcoming his joy.

Tyrion sipped his wine, and considered Jaime’s announcement. “As I recall, you were quite distraught after Annalyse’s difficult birth.” He remembered.

Jaime nodded. “Brienne nearly died.” He shuddered at the bitter memory.

“I thought you two had decided against having anymore children.” Tyrion clarified.

“I decided.” Jaime admitted. “I did not even ask Brienne what she wished.” He lamented regretfully. “I knew she wanted more.” He hung his head, guilt riddling his heart.

“Is she well?” Tyrion asked, troubled. “Is this welcome news? What has she said of her condition?” He probed.

Jaime sighed heavily, and stared intently at the fire. “Brienne does not know that I know.” He reported. His voice low and dry.

“Then perhaps you are mistaken.” Tyrion offered. “She is getting older, and surely the children are a handful.” He chuckled. “She may simply be just tired.” His suggestion seemed plausible, at least to himself.

Jaime shook his head. “ We have been nearly two and ten years married.” He reminded. “I have spent every night with that woman in my arms.” He said, his mind tracing their loving intimacy through time. “I know what my own wife feels like.” He paused. “Inside and out.” His voice rose. “I know exactly the way her body changes when she carries my babes in her belly.” He nodded emphatically. “Trust me.” He declared. “My child grows within her, once more. I am sure of it.” He finished, feeling a tinge of pride against his will.

“You know she will never consent to ending the pregnancy.” Tyrion replied.

“Nor would I ask her to.” Jaime assured him. “Please do not misunderstand me.” He begged. “I am overjoyed to think of another precious babe from the woman I love.” Jaime’s slight smile was almost whimsical, imagining another addition to their family. Then his face grew dire once again with dread for Brienne.

Jaime’s shook his head, his eyes clouding with fear. “I cannot lose her.” He declared, his heart already mourning the thought of Brienne dying in childbirth.

“May I suggest, this is a conversation you should be having with your wife.” Tyrion told his brother matter-of-factly. Jaime’s only reaction was to fill his goblet again, and down the vintage as quickly as he poured it.  
———————————  
Jaime awoke the next morning to Brienne slumped upon the chair next to the hearth in their chamber. He said nothing, but was instantly alarmed. Flinging the quilts aside, he quickly made his way across the room to see to his wife. Brienne looked up calmly as Jaime approached her and laid his arm comfortingly around her shoulders. It was clear to him that she was not well. He knew instantly what was distressing her. The first time her body had reacted this way, he had not been with her. She was kept from him, locked away in a dark cold cell by a viscous tyrant, when first the sickness had come upon her. However, he had seen her this way three times since, each time his seed had planted within her womb. Now he was certain, that she was carrying another babe.

Jaime pulled the empty seat up beside Brienne, and sat next to her, drawing her into his arms. She collapsed against him, sick and fatigued. Jaime suspected she had vomited before he had awakened. He kissed her hair, and held her quietly.

“My Love.” Brienne began after a long moment of enjoying being held by him. “There is something I need to tell you.” She said softly, a hint of reluctance in her voice.

Jaime sighed. “I know.” He told her without judgement.

Brienne sat up slowly, and studied Jaime’s expression worriedly. “You know?” She asked, feeling a lump forming in her throat.

He brought his hand up and placed it lightly upon her abdomen. “You carry another babe.” He nestled his head next to hers, his eyes heavy with love, but his tone stiff with worry.

“I was not even certain, myself, until a few days ago.” She told him. The maester had only then confirmed to her that she two moons along. “How did you know?” Brienne asked. Jaime could feel her begin to tremble.

He spoke adoringly to her, trying to alleviate her fears. “You are my wife.” Jaime smiled in spite of his fear. “I know you better than anyone in this world.” He declared to Brienne.

She joined him in a soft chuckle. “Oh really?” Brienne teased.

Jaime took her fingers and kisses each one in succession as he listed the proof of his assertion. “I know when you are happy.” He proclaimed. “I know when you are sad.” He nuzzled her forehead. “I know when you are weary, or angry.” He teased in mock submission. “And I know when my babe burgeons in your womb.” Jaime rubbed Brienne’s belly affectionately.

A shadow of guilt floated over Brienne’s eyes, and she looked away from Jaime’s caring regard. “I should have taken the moon tea as we discussed. At least I should have talked with before I chose for us.” A large heavy tear trailed down her cheek. Jaime lightly brushed it away, trying to sooth her. She turned and looked at him with earnest honesty. The years that had passed weighed heavily upon her mind. She knew her body would soon change. “I wanted but one more, one more of your babes, while I still can.” She explained, her voice a whisper. Jaime did not attempt to reply, he merely held her closer, to reassure her.

Brienne cast her eyes down bashfully, and regarded his hand as it rested lovingly atop their child. She could not face him. “Please, don’t be angry with me.” Brienne asked him, remorsefully.

Jaime pulled her closer. “Now, why would I be angry with you?” He smiled.

Brienne’s eyes filled with tears at the memory. “Annalyse’s birth was so hard on me.” It had not been only Jaime who had feared she would not live through bringing their youngest daughter into the world. “We said we would not have anymore.” The sadness shown upon her features, and it broke Jaime’s heart.

“No.” He shook his head. “I made that declaration.” Jaime indicted himself. “I gave little consideration to what you wanted.” He confessed.

“I conceded willingly to your desire. You wanted to make sure I was healthy and well.” Brienne assured him, touching his cheek. “I understood.” She held tightly onto his hand.

“You did.” He smiled in agreement and gratefulness. “But still, it was not fair of me to take that from you.” He apologized. “The thought of losing you, or taking a chance with your life scared me to death.” He explained solemnly. “So. I made the decision for both of us, and expected you to go along with my will.” His eyes asked Brienne for forgiveness. “And you did. But I knew it was not what you wanted.” Jaime said regretfully. “I saw it in your eyes each time you looked the children.” He told her.

Even as he tried to support and encourage her, Brienne saw the fear and worry in Jaime’s eyes. He continued, wanting to keep any of that misgiving far from her as she faced what might lay ahead. “I could not be angry that you chose what you wanted. That you determined your own way.” He regarded her with pride. “It is what you have always done.” Jaime looked earnestly at her. “It is one the qualities that made me fall in love with you.” He smiled, remembering. He could feel Brienne relax in his arms, and it made him glad he could comfort her. Yet, in his own mind, Jaime could not rid himself of the sense of dread that stained his joy.

Brienne took a long relieved breath. Finally, she gave herself permission to feel the joy of bringing another of Jaime’a children into the world. “I am relieved that you are happy.” She smiled.

Jaime joined her in celebration. “Of course I am happy. My Love.” Again, he caressed Brienne’s belly, filled with a new life they had created. “Seeing our children born have been the happiest moments of my life.” He told her. Then, he paused, recalling the ordeal of her last birth. “However.” Jaime’s demeanor grew concerned. “That does not mean I shall worry any less.” He held her close, as if he could keep all that would threaten her away. “I cannot lose you.” He swore. “The mere thought drives me insane.” He mourned.

Brienne pulled her fingers from his and cradled his face in both of her palms the way she did on that cold night at Winterfell so long ago. Her eyes begged him to believe her the same way they had then. “The Maester said that I am perfectly healthy, and very capable of carrying another child to full term.” She wished more than anything to take away his apprehension. “He saw no reason why I should not have a normal healthy pregnancy, or that there should be any fear of another difficult delivery.” She reported, reassuringly.

“We shall both be fine.” Brienne vowed, resting her hand over Jaime’s atop her still flat abdomen. “I am certain of it.” Her smile widened, as she imagined who the little being she carried would become.

Jaime could not help but return Brienne’s joy and hope. “You are the most remarkable woman who has ever graced these kingdoms.” He swore, losing himself in her smile and her eyes, before bringing his lips to hers and sealing their optimism with sweet slow kiss.  
——————————-  
Late in Brienne’ fourth decade of life, and Jaime’s fifth, their youngest child was born. Selwyn Tarth Lannister entered the world quickly, and much to his parents’ relief, with far less difficulty than his sister had before him. So rapid was Brienne’s labor that she barely made it to her birthing bed before her littlest knight arrived. Again, it was Jaime who welcomed the babe, catching the squalling infant as Brienne delivered him. His eyes were filled with happy tears as he held the child up to his delighted wife. Brienne clung to her babe, overjoyed at his arrival, and leaned into Jaime’s loving arms. The relief felt by Lord Lannister that both Brienne and their child were well could not be expressed. He was so overcome with joy that he could not even speak. He simply held his wife and newborn son, and reveled in his love for them.

The other children were ushered into their parents’ bed chamber soon after their little brother drew his first breath. Brienne had insisted, she wanted all of her children near. The younger ones crowded onto the bed, eager to be close to their mother. Something in their attachment to her made them want to be the ones she was holding. Instead they contended themselves with the kiss which Brienne bestowed upon their foreheads, and the love they sensed from her beaming gaze. Galladon and Joanna stood at Brienne’s bedside flanking their proud father, Jaime’s arms draped adoringly around their shoulders. Both were of the age that were beginning to understand the biology of their mother and father having another child, and both were a little uneasy with the knowledge. Brienne and Jaime’s two eldest were also quite able to remember how they had almost lost their mother when Annalyse was born, and both were heartily relieved that she was well.

“He is beautiful, Mother.” Joanna smiled sweetly at Brienne.

Brienne returned her glee with a sweet look. “He is, isn’t he, My Dear.” She agreed, her bright smile moving between her daughter and her infant, and then dancing across the faces of all of her babes. “Just as you all were.” Her eyes sparkled with the memories of all of their births, and at last fell upon Jaime’s wistful smile. His mind, too, was reliving all they had shared. Everything they had overcome, and each moment of triumph they had known floated through his mind, as he beheld his happy family. Brienne watched him, her heart bursting with the same joy, and understood.

“Was he really inside your belly, Mother?” Annalyse’s innocent voice at her side stirred Brienne from her silent remembrances with Jaime. She laughed at her daughter’s sweet quizzical expression.

“You all were.” Jaime chuckled, reassuring his precocious child.

Brienne pushed the quilt aside so Annalyse could view the slight change in her body. “See, it’s a little flatter now.” She grinned patting what remained of her bulging abdomen.

Annalyse gave her mother and father a worried look. “But, how did he get in there?” She stared at her newborn brother in awe. “How did you get him out?” Her wide eyes turned questioningly to meet mother.

It was Joanna who rescued her mother and father from an impromptu lesson on reproduction. She bent to share her wisdom with her baby sister. “It’s a special secret.” Joanna informed the curious child. “Only mothers and fathers know it, and they’re not allowed to tell.” She nodded to her sister.

“Really?” Annalyse asked her mother and father.

“Yes, really.” Jaime nodded emphatically.

“She’s right.” Brienne joined him in acknowledging Joanna’s little purposeful falsehood.

Annalyse thought for a moment, her little brow furrowing. Then as quickly as she broached the subject, she accepted the only answer she was given. “Alright.” She shrugged, and turned her attentions back to admiring the baby.

Jaime squeezed Joanna’s shoulders gratefully, guiding her to sit at the foot of the bed. Galladon joined her, perching on the mattress at his mother’s feet. Jaime sat beside Brienne, gathering her and little Selwyn in his arms. Brienne gave him a tender smile, and nestled into him. The family spent a glorious time together enjoying each other and welcoming their new addition. Then, after a while, Jaime noticed the familiar fatigue begin to settle over Brienne, and knew that sleep was not far from gaining its hold over her.

“We should let your mother rest.” Jaime told the children. “You can all visit a little later.” He assured them. They did not protest. Each gave a kiss to Brienne as they left, their father seeing them to the door. Brienne bid her older sons and daughters a temporary farewell and settled against the pillows to nurse her infant. When Jaime returned to her, he found her with the most sublime smile upon her face. He again, sat upon the mattress and drew her to himself.

“I told you everything would be fine.” She teased as he kissed her temple.

“Yes.” He conceded. “And it is.” Jaime conceded, his fingers caught in his newborn son’s tight grip. He gave a silent prayer of thanks to the Gods that his fears had been assuaged.

“How many more should we have?” Brienne gave him the best earnest stare she could muster before dissolving into laughter, as their infant wriggled in her arms.

Jaime rolled his eyes, and regarded her in mock terror. “More?” He feigned disbelief, knowing it was only a charade she played with him. Brienne looked innocently into his face, as he appeared to consider her request for a moment. “I think, ten more should be sufficient.” He chuckled.

“That sounds about right to me.” Brienne smiled, content in the outcome of her delivery, and her little joke. She sighed deeply resting against his chest, safe and secure in their love, and their life together.


End file.
